


Fimbulwinter

by Mlwj



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Loki Wins, Canon Divergence - Avengers (2012), Comic Thanos Motivation, Dark Loki (Marvel), Defiance, Evil Loki (Marvel), Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki is not a victim, Loki likes to hear the sound of his own voice, Manipulative Loki (Marvel), Protective Steve Rogers, Violence, and to let the world burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:20:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 30,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24060469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mlwj/pseuds/Mlwj
Summary: Loki isn't an abused puppet of Thanos. He volunteered. What better to do than lose himself in bloodlust and debauchery. Midgard will burn, he will see to that. And he will keep his last promise to the blonde oaf and visit that mortal woman.- - - - - - - - - - - -Branching off midway through the Avengers plot. Loki fully intends to conquer Earth and can count on a millennium of so of war, tactics, and cunning. Will the remains of the Avengers be able to outwit him, save the girl, and the planet? Or are they all to be gifts to Mistress Death?
Relationships: Jane Foster/Loki, Jane Foster/Steve Rogers
Comments: 74
Kudos: 103





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> T/W this is far from fluff. This chapter contains moderately graphic violence.  
> I will give explicit trigger warnings for sexual violence where appropriate. I don't intend to use gratuitous description, but there will be focus on the aftermath and consequences.  
> This is a short chapter, others will be longer.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sudden fully funded research trip to Norway? Surely this was too good to be true. But damn it, those clear skies! Jane went, knowing something was wrong, and that was before she picked up a SHIELD escort.

Jane was not long off the helicopter when things started to go wrong. She had known something was wrong when a research grant too good to be true came without warning, when she had to leave for Norway immediately, when SHIELD had come to pick her up from the airport. The remote research station did indeed have beautifully clear skies and more equipment than she could have hoped for, but surely it didn’t need so many guards. She was wrong, of course. It needed every guard and a hundred more. Not that it would have made a difference.

They landed as it was starting to snow, settling on already icy ground. The four men that SHIELD had insisted keep her company stamped their feet in heavy boots and grumbled greetings to their colleagues already there. They had told Jane their names, but they were such interchangeable sorts, that she had renamed them goons one through four. Now there were goons one through six. She left them to their conversation and went to explore. They wouldn’t tell her what was really happening anyway. Best to make the most of the odd little trip.

The lab setup was more than she could have dreamed. Jane soon found herself lost in her work, planning what exactly she was going to do with it all, barely having taken her coat off before examining everything. This wouldn’t be so bad, and Darcey would join her in a few days. No, there were worse places to be mysteriously escorted under guard. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she almost missed the first of the shots fired, taking a moment to process, to bring her mind back to the present.

“Get behind me miss, don’t make a sound, keep still, keep calm” goon one, or was it three, was in the room, his voice firm, without panic, but urgent. Jane obeyed and gave herself a figurative shake, trying to work out what was going on around her. There was more noise now. Gunshots? She had never heard guns except in films. These were louder sharper, a hard crack against the air in her ears. There were other noises too. Screams.

“We’ll be fine in here miss, door’s thick steel, and nobody saw me come in. They don’t know we are here and have no reason to come looking. Don’t you worry. Keep calm.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as her. Jane didn’t know that she believed him at all. Someone was coming down the hall towards the lab, doors banging off their hinges one by one, closer each time. There was no more gunfire now.

Goon had crouched behind a heavy laboratory bench and was edging around, just enough to see the door. Jane pressed her head back against the bench, steadying her breath. It would come or it wouldn’t. Whatever it was.

There was almost silence now, nothing aside from her breathing, the creak of goon’s armoured vest, the hum of air purification. Nothing much of any sound at all.

The calm was broken by sharp echoing footsteps. They stopped and Jane knew the figure was just outside. Goon knew too, Jane could almost feel the tension in him. She held her breath, as if it would make a difference.

It all happened all at once, the sound or crunching, ripping steel, tearing away from the hinges, screaming as it tore. Goon shooting, breaking his cover, and the thud as he landed back behind the bench in a heap. There was a dagger where his eye should have been. A polished black handle inlaid with twisting gold, beautiful in its horror.

Jane would have screamed if her voice hadn’t abandoned her entirely. She gasped, fighting for air, fighting to her feet, knowing she needed to get away, to get anywhere away, but it was no good.

She barely managed a step before she was caught, impossibly strong hands twisting her arm, forcing her back against the wall. She barely processed the sight of the intruder. All that she could see was black and green and gold, sharp, pale features, and eyes that gleamed feral.

“Please, who? Stop, I don’t know… why?” Her voice seemed to have found her again, but she could barely string together a question. Where to even begin? The figure laughed, cruel and cold.

“Dr Jane Foster?” He spoke English with an odd precision, carefully enunciating consonants others would have skipped, his vowels clipped, and somehow very British.

“Yes? Why, what do you… who?” She stammered again, the words falling over one another. His hand was very tight on her arm, it would leave a bruise. And he was standing so very close.

“Good. I would have hated to have gone to the trouble to find you only to have the wrong whimpering Midgardian. Have you settled on a question, why, what, or who? I may even indulge you with an answer. Perhaps two.”

Jane gulped, steeling herself, staring at the folds of leather across his chest, unable to meet those unnerving eyes. “Who. Who are you? And why… why any of this?”

“Mm, much better already. I am Loki. You know me, I think. You understand who, what I am.” And Jane did. Since Thor had come to New Mexico, more than eighteen months ago, she had filled her every spare moment with what little remained of Norse myth. She remembered the stories Thor had told, of his quick-witted little brother, clever and full of magic. And she remembered The Destroyer. She remembered the moment that it had struck Thor across the face, breaking his neck before he hit the ground, only to be revived by Mjolnir.

“As for the why, the last time I spoke to the oaf he was rather changed, weakened, less than he was. As we fought, I vowed to him that I would pay you a visit. And now here I am.”

“But why?”

He stepped closer, his long body almost pressed against hers and swept a lock of hair behind her ear in a gesture of mock gentleness. He pressed his lips so close to her ear that she could feel his breath and the cool press of his helmet. He spoke low, an almost seductive purr of a voice that chilled her far more than a knife where a man’s eye should be. “Because Thor cared for you. Thor cared for you, and likely cares for you still. I shall break you Jane Foster. And I shall take great pleasure in the breaking of you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle for New York is over and Loki stands victorious in the ruins. His father is ever so pleased with the gift of the tesseract, but something tells Jane that that is not Odin.

“Sir, the storm is starting to close in, we ought to head now if we are going.” A voice from over his shoulder seemed to shake his attention away from her. He relaxed his grip on her arm a little, turning to face the speaker. Jane found herself dragged along with his movements, stumbling a little, catching her hand on the lab bench to steady herself.

“Thank you, Barton. I shall go on ahead. Take the girl.” Jane found herself jerked forwards towards a man who looked remarkably like goons one through six. “Restrain her, but not too heavy handed. I don’t want a bruise on that girl I didn’t put there myself. Sedate her if she struggles.”

Jane looked from Barton to the two larger men behind him. There seemed very little point in struggling.

“Wrists together, out in front.” And Jane did, not daring to disobey him with Loki still at her shoulder, with no real hope for escape while she was so surrounded and clearly outmatched. Barton placed handcuffs rather gently around her wrist, not setting them too tight. He gave her something that might have been a half smile, which might have been reassuring, had his eyes not looked so very wrong. They were blue, completely blue, and reminded her of the depths of space. Not space as it really was, but the infinity of dreams of stars and the space beyond.

“Follow close, watch your step in the hall.” Jane nodded mutely, following along, glancing down at her feet as she stepped past the ruined door, only to wish she hadn’t. The knife in the eye was a pleasant memory when compared against that corridor. She stared resolutely ahead, her stomach threatening to revolt.

Loki accompanied as far as the helicopter and watched to as she was secured in between two heavy set men. He smiled at her, a wicked curving grin that bared perfect teeth, and was then simply gone, snow settling in the prints where his heavy boots had been. ‘My brother is gifted with sorcery, far beyond what I understand. He has a power all of his own.’ Jane’s mind wandered back to Thor, to his stories of youthful mischief. It all seemed so very distant now.

She was very determined not to cry. She would not, at least not in front of others. She managed to stare determinedly into space for the entire flight. She ignored the men beside her, the noise, the turbulence, and the horrible dread that would not leave her. She kept on managing to hold herself together on the small aeroplane that met them at an airfield far from civilisation

The journey dragged on. Usually by this time Jane would be growing impatient, fidgeting, her mind caught up in some new project or idea, itching to start to work it through. But not today. She sat still and in silence, dreading what was to come.

‘I shall break you Jane Foster. And I shall take great pleasure in the breaking of you.’ It echoed about in her head. Every over enunciated syllable, every inappropriately purring note. She didn’t doubt that he meant it. There was a certainty in it. A promise.

Nobody spoke as they escorted her across the tarmac of a private airfield into the back of a waiting black SUV. They swept out into the early morning traffic, weak sunlight splitting heavy clouds before being lost again. Jane picked at her fingers. She had to figure a way out of this. As soon as they got where they were going, she had to come up with something. She should be gone before Loki joined them again. If she sat very quietly, did everything she was told, maybe her guards would grow complacent. That was the closest thing she had to a plan.

She allowed herself to be escorted through an old industrial building, guards either side, front and back. They led her down far too many stairs to count and quickly past groups busy working on some sort of device she didn’t get a proper look at. She was taken to a room, bare apart from a cot bed against one wall and a shower and loo in the other corner. There was a small, neatly folded bundle of cloth on the edge of the bed, and nothing else. No windows, no vents. Nothing.

“Wash and dress, clothes are on the bed. You’ll be brought food in an hour. Give me your wrists.” Jane held out her hands and allowed the handcuffs to be removed, instinctively rubbing where they had been. Not that they had affected her circulation.

The door banged closed and the lock clicked. Jane gave it a moment or two to be sure before starting to move. She searched everything. She tried every inch of wall for a hidden vent, even under the bed. There was a drain in the shower, but too small. The plumbing for the shower and loo disappeared straight back into the concrete wall. The cell was locked tight. Damn.

Tired, stiff, and feeling rather unpleasant from the long journey, she decided that a shower wasn’t the worst idea. The water was even hot. She did not like stripping off in a room like this, sure she would be watched somehow, but couldn’t see anything that might be a camera. Still, she showered quickly.

There was a single, rather rough towel on the bed and something that might have been an evening dress. Deep blue silk, backless, and with a plunging neckline. There was nothing else. She pulled it on, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. This must be what Loki had ordered brought for her, but she didn’t understand why he would want to dress her up like this if his plan was just to hurt her. She didn’t want to think about it either. She had to work out how to get out. Perhaps when her meal was brought?

That idea was a bust. One guard loomed in the doorway while the other brought her a tray of disappointing food. She felt like refusing but reasoned that she ought to keep up her strength. The guard watched her eat, keeping a close eye on the cutlery, taking everything away with him when she was finished. Jane sagged back onto the bed, exhausted, knowing she should sleep now, while she could, but entirely incapable of it.

She must have dropped off, only to be woken, cold and cramped, by the door creaking open on unoiled hinges. “Up, wrists in front.” Jane felt groggy and her movements were slow but dragged herself up. The heavy skirt fell to her bare toes on the rough concrete floor. She went to pick up her boots from the night before. “No need, just as you are. Come on now.” There was nothing to be gained by arguing.

It was all rather like before. Silent guards, all with the same blue eyes. SUV to an open field and then to a helicopter. She tried to figure out where they might be, but it could be any number of places, dilapidated, ex industrial buildings, former warehouses and factories, wharfs fronting onto a bleak harbour, steel grey in the dim November light. They passed over more inhabited looking areas, first a few sparse houses and then sprawling suburbs until an identifiably New York skyline hazed into view. Only there were bits missing.

The destruction was obvious as soon as they drew closer, cars crammed arterial roads, many abandoned. Buildings gaped open, their frontages torn away. Jane craned over one of her guards to get a better look, only to be pushed firmly back into her seat. There were other things in the air too, light craft, like chariots only flying, but they weren’t close enough to see, and she didn’t want to push her luck.

They landed amongst the rubble and Jane had little option but to step carefully out, watching her step for broken glass.

“Ah, my little Midgardian. What perfect timing. Mind your step now, I am told you mortals are frightfully fragile.” He was standing amongst the ruins with a perfectly casual air. Jane could get a proper look now that she wasn’t quite so overcome with terror, but he was still mostly hidden under layers of leather armour. He wore an ornate helmet, horns curving high into the air, with cheek guards following the sharp angles of his face. He might have looked human, a young man in his mid-twenties, had it not been for his unnerving eyes. They were an unnatural shade of green, but that wasn’t what made her skin bristle. There was an agelessness in their depths and a hardness of purpose.

“Keep her there, I hear father’s ship above. It would not do to have her too close.”

His father? Odin? What would Odin want to blow up half of New York for? And where was Thor? Surely if Odin were here and with a ship, Thor would be too. There must be some misunderstanding. Perhaps it wasn’t entirely hopeless after all.

There was some sort of change in the air pressure, an oddness that Jane couldn’t quite identify. Then all of a sudden, a beam of blue light, something surely out of Sci-Fi B movie history. A man stepped out. Well, not a man. Loki would have been tall for a human and with his helmet couldn’t be less than seven feet, but he was dwarfed by the being that stepped out of the light. A giant of a man, thick set muscles, and purple skin.

Loki fell to one knee, one hand clasped over his heart, his head bowed.

“Father, I have done as you asked. Midgard begins to burn. I send so many humble offerings to your mistress and countless more will follow.”

This was Odin? That made little sense to Jane. Thor had described Odin as an old man with a grey beard. And wasn’t he supposed to only have one eye?

“Rise. You have done well my son, and you shall be first among my children if you have a worthy gift for me too.”

Loki stood in a single flowing motion. Stepping forward he raised a hand to catch a perfectly beautiful blue cube, made, apparently, of a rolling blue light, roiling in its depths.

“A gift for you then father, I hope it is indeed a worthy one.”

The being took the cube, tiny in his oversized hands, and smiled down affectionately.

“Since the moment I plucked you from the void I felt the promise in you, my child, the power and the purpose. You do not disappoint.” Loki bowed his head deeply, and Jane wondered for a comical moment how his silly helmet didn’t fall off, until she remembered quite the gravity of the situation.

“You smell of its power child, did you wield it? The stone and the sceptre both?”

“Yes father, I hope I did not overstep. I needed the power of one to augment the other. It is why far more than one Midgardian city will burn tonight.”

“A clever boy and impressive for one so small. Yet you always could endure.”

“Yes father.” That seemed rather forced.

“You will stay on Midgard until the task is complete. I shall send you your sister to aid you in your work. Don’t tarry too long, but no need to hurry the work either. I know your tastes for your games. Indulge yourself as you like.”

“Of course, father. Midgard is a populace world, but I shall see to it. Most are meagre gifts for your mistress, short fragile lives, barely worth her attention. Some are rather different. I shall savour those.” His tone turned rather more direct and without the formal air. “I have a gift for you ‘Other’ too. A green brute. He is held by my magic and the power of the sceptre, but he is quite the thing. He seems resistant to almost everything. Almost. I do not doubt The Other shall find a way.”

“You are a flatterer and a charmer child, but your gift is no doubt appreciated. And the Midgardian you have at hand? Is that a gift too? Or do you celebrate you victory Æsir fashion still?”

Loki shot a look at Jane, and smirked, before turning back to his 'father'. “That one is mine. Yes, I shall keep to the Æsir fashion. Such habits are hard to break, and I do so enjoy that one in particular. You will forgive me my indulgence and sentimentality.”

“I do not pretend to understand, but while you serve me so well, bring me such gifts, and offer so very much to my mistress, who am I to begrudge you this. I leave you the chitauri, and the sceptre to complete your work. Gamora will join you tomorrow,”

Loki seemed to take that as a dismissal because he fell back to his knee, head bowed as the being stepped back into a new pillar of blue light.

It seemed that had gone rather well for him. There was a curve to his lip as he approached. Jane took a step back, but caught bare feet on something sharp, and winced.

“Now my dear you must be more careful. I would not have you damaged so early.” He was standing too close again, uncomfortably within her personal space, yet Jane dared no step away. His eyes followed the indecent line of the dress. “I have much to finish here, but I shall come and see you later. You are not forgotten.” He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look him in the eye. He studied her. Jane had never felt so exposed, so very vulnerable in all her life. There was a predatory gleam in his unnatural eyes. But it faded, a smirk and his easy, charming expression returning.

“Until later then.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle for New York is over and Jane finds herself locked at the top of Stark Tower, desparate to escape before Loki returns for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/w for moderate violence and for sexual violence. The violence is explicit, the sexual violence isn't, but you still know it is there, so be warned.

Jane was left alone in a bedroom, high up at the top of Stark Tower. She wondered why there at first, it must have been heavily defended, until she realised, looking out across the ruined city, that nowhere else appeared to have power.

She wasted no time in exploring her new cell, looking for some way, any way to get herself out of this. All she found was a more luxurious prison. Stark, it seemed, had been rather security focused with his new building and it had none of the weaknesses she had hoped for. Vents were small, grates tightly fixed and the doors leading off from the main room lead only to a bathroom and an empty walk in wardrobe. There was not so much as a loose tile.

Weapons were here next best bet. When Loki came, she would fight. It would likely be a very short fight, but she had to fight. She looked about her. The main room was large, though sparsely furnished. It was split between a bedroom space and seating, a slightly curved ‘L’ shaped against the corner of the building, glass wrapping around on two sides. There should be a few good options here.

There were heavy table lamps, but rather too heavy. She swung one tentatively in the air and found her motions sluggish. That wouldn’t do. There were very few other ornaments, and nothing looked particularly useful. On her second sweep she had better luck, finding what were doubtless outrageously expensive bath oils one of which was in a long glass bottle. This would be tricky. How to break the glass, but not shatter it and cut her hands to pieces... She managed though, somehow, carefully emptying and washing the bottle, stuffing it with a flannel, wrapping all but the opening with a towel, and knocking it hard against the side of the bath. The neck of the bottle broke, leaving a jagged edge and giving her plenty to hold. This felt better. She was under no illusion that she could manage what goons one through six could not, trained SHIELD agents and all twice her size, but she wasn’t going to simply stammer at the bastard this time.

Jane didn’t know what to do with herself as she waited. She hated it, all of it, uncertainty, and a growing dread about what might be to come. He had had her dressed up and left her in a bedroom. She refused to think about it. When he came through that door, she would put the broken bottle through his neck and that would be the end of it. That was all that was going to happen this evening.

As she watched the sun set over a ruined New York skyline though, she found it much more difficult to restrain her thoughts. Snatches of memory refused to leave her be; his lingering looks; the way he stood far to close; and that nasty smirk at his ‘father’s’ mention of an Æsir victory celebration. What could that possibly have meant? From the tales Thor had told her, the Æsir seemed to celebrate almost anything with wine and feasting. And yet that did not fit.

It seemed a very long time before she heard the click of his boots in the hall outside. She jolted herself up and to full awareness, pressing her back against the wall by the door, broken bottle held tightly, ready to strike whatever came through.

“Sir, you haven’t slept since you came through. You need to rest. We have everything in order here.”

“Your concern is noted Barton. I shall sleep tonight, but I am not entirely spent yet.” Jane held her breath, counting the seconds until the lock clicked and the handle started to turn. She would do this. Straight to the throat. How tall was he again? Taller than her, much taller. She should aim up. This would work.

The door swung open and she moved, quick as she could, driving the bottle forwards and up, aiming for the throat. He caught her wrist a foot from his neck, squeezing, twisting, forcing her back against the wall, until they were pressed close, barely an inch apart. She struggled, kicked, struck out with knees, fists, elbows, anything she could manage, pulling wildly against his iron grip, determined to get away, to hurt him somehow, anything at all. He struck her. Hard against the face with the open palm of his free hand. The shock of it startling her out of her struggle for a moment. He wrenched the bottle from her slackened grip and pressed the broken glass under her jaw.

“That’s quite enough.” He shifted, pressing close against her, leaning down to speak directly into her ear. “I am so very glad you fought. It would have been such a disappointment to me had you been a weakling. This,” he glanced down at the bottle, still pressed against soft flesh, “this is clever. Had I not been a God, you may even have succeeded, but…” he trailed off, stepping back, and holding the bottle in the flat of his palm. Jane lunged to grab it only for it to shimmer away into nothing.

He turned, walking out into the room, the door slamming shut without him touching it. Jane dared not move, still pressed back against the wall by the door, trying to work out some new plan, some new way to escape this, to escape him. She watched him warily as he walked, apparently entirely at ease, looking out over the city. Without the lights of the building, there were so many stars, glimpsed through parting cloud. He seemed quite taken by it.

The heavier of his armour was gone and without the helmet, cloak, and all that gold and leather she saw that he was leanly built. Dark hair fell in loose curls to his shoulders, a far deeper black than the night sky.

She knew she ought to move, ought to fight again, or run. But she didn’t know what to do. She simply watched him in silence as he took in the view of his ruined city.

“Come, girl, here, by me.”

Even in her terror, voluntarily moving closer to him was the last thing she was going to do.

“I won’t.”

That hadn’t sounded half so convincing as she had hoped.

“I won’t do what you want, monster, I don’t care what…” But something in what she had said had caught his attention. He turned, a nasty smile marring what should have been a handsome face.

“Oh you don’t know how right you are.” He stalked towards her, precise footsteps as if walking on a line, painted on the ground. Jane panicked and ran, making a break for the bathroom, hoping to barricade herself inside. But he caught her just as easily as if she had stood still. A hand closed around her throat and squeezed. She clawed at his hand, struggling in vain to pull him off. He struck her again, and this time she felt the lip split, before he released her, gasping, collapsing at his feet.

“Up” She tried to get her legs under her, wanting nothing more than to get up and run, but not nearly fast enough. A hand wrenched her up by the hair, flinging her up against a wall. He pressed up against her, wrapping his hand through her hair, tilting her chin to make her look him in the eye. She stared back, as defiantly as she could manage. She refused to be cowed, to beg or to cry. He simply smiled and bent to kiss her.

Jane kept her lips pressed tightly shut, pushing against his chest for all the good it did. Even in her horror she couldn’t help but notice that his lips felt wrong, unnaturally cool. Something alien in the man’s shape he wore. He broke the kiss, moving down her jaw and towards the shell of her ear. She could feel every breath, his lips moving against her skin. “Take off the dress.”

“Screw you.”

“Yes, that’s the plan.”

He allowed her to break his grip, to run, only to appear behind her, arms closing around her waist and hauling her back against his chest. He held her tight, an arm pressed hard against her chest, fingers threatening her throat as the other loosened the dress, pushing it away from her shoulders.

“You have fought well, stop now, it won’t help.” He pressed his lips to a now bare shoulder, purring his words, making Jane squirm. “Calm. I am in no mood to be gentle, but this will hurt far more if you keep on struggling.” His wandering hand found the dress’s fastenings and it fell in a pool at her feet.

“I won’t, I won’t let you.”

“I don’t need you to let me.” He nipped at her neck. “You will be a good creature, and you will scream for me.”

Jane closed her eyes, willing him to stop, as he pressed her forwards onto the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for making it this far! I have the next half dozen chapters read to go so shall aim to keep posting and give you all something to read while we can't leave the house.
> 
> Future chapters will have Loki making more effort to be the silver tongued manipulator we all know and love, relying less on straight up violence to get what he wants, but you can expect consistent bastard behaviour throughout.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T/W for aftermath of sexual violence

Jane scrambled away the moment he let her up, rolling off her with a satisfied grunt.

“I have no further use for you tonight girl. Go and clean yourself up.” She hardly needed telling twice, almost running to the bathroom, closing the door, and locking it. As if that would do any good if he wanted to get in. She leant against the door, catching her breath, trying to straighten her thoughts. 

She ran the shower hot, far too hot for comfort. And as she stood in scalding water, she finally let out the sob she had been holding back. God, she hated him.

Jane scrubbed harder than was necessary, the heat of the water and roughness of the sponge painful against already injured flesh, but she didn’t care. She had to get the smell of him out, the memory of him out. There was blood on the sponge when she washed it out. She resumed her scrubbing.

Only after she had scrubbed herself raw did Jane turn the water off. She felt no cleaner, even without the repulsive stickiness between her legs. She was sure she could still smell him on her: leather, the acrid smoke of a burning city, and blood.

Steeling herself, and not entirely sure why she wanted to do it, she looked in the mirror.

It took a moment to recognise herself. Her skin was red and blotchy from the scrubbing and the heat of the shower. It was a mess. Her lip was badly split where he had hit her. There were ugly bruises too, blooming across her neck, her wrists, and on her thighs where his knees had pressed her legs apart. And then there were the other marks: deep red blotches across her neck, shoulders, breasts; and a bite, just where her shoulders met her neck. It had been hard enough to break the skin. She would kill him for this. If she could.

Jane had never had a thought like that in all her life, and yet she did not regret it now. Everything ached, she was sore, she was exhausted, but she refused to stay here whimpering until he decided to hurt her again.

There were one or two more glass bottles around the bath, but smaller than the one she had used earlier. That might work, perhaps, if he fell asleep, but maybe not. She had seen him cast his clothes off by the side of the bed and was sure there would be some sort of weapon amongst them. Pulling on a bath robe and tying it tight around her waist, she carefully and very quietly opened the door.

He was asleep, long limbs tangled in the bedsheets, head thrown back against the pillow, pale throat unguarded. She could hardly have a better chance than this. She stole across the room and around the wide bed.

The floor was bare. There was no pile of leather and metal where she swore it should have been. Had he tidied up while she was in the shower? Perhaps he had dumped the pile into the dressing room.

“What exactly are you doing?”

Shit.

He hadn’t moved, his eyes were still closed, his tone was light and conversational. Still, she felt the danger in it.

“I…” Her voice faltered. She didn’t exactly have an excuse.

“You are looking for something sharp, or maybe something heavy. I wouldn’t waste your energy. It would be an ignominious end, dead in my bed, throat slit by a Midgardian whore. I take precautions.” Jane said nothing, not daring to move, her breath catching in her throat. “You could improvise again, I suppose. More broken glass? I doubt you have the strength in your arm to give me so much as a scratch with it. And you would have to do far better than a scratch. If I survived, and I would, I would make you beg for death long before the end.”

“And how is that different from what you have planned anyway?” The words tumbled out before she could catch them, but she didn’t regret having said it.

“Shut up, and go to sleep, before I decide to show you.” There was a burr in his voice, a hardness that had not been there before. She backed down. Perhaps she would get her chance again.

She took a cushion from an oversized sofa and headed towards the dressing room, unwilling to be in a room with him any longer than she had to.

“No. Here. Where you can be seen. You may sleep on the sofa if you are quiet.” Jane didn’t like the idea at all but, for the moment defeated, she sagged down.

She was determined not to sleep at first, not wanting to be even more vulnerable while locked in a room with him, but decided it was probably better on balance. It wasn’t as if she could fight him off anyway, better to rest and give herself a better chance of figuring a way out of this. Sleep did not come easy though. Every time she was close to dropping off, she could feel him on her again, holding her down, his weight pressing her into the bed, his lips and hands moving across her. More than once she startled awake, torn away from the beginnings of sleep, convinced he was on top of her again. But he wasn’t. He was, or at least appeared to be, asleep. Each time she jolted awake like that, every time she was forced to remember the fear and pain of it, Jane renewed her resolution. She would get away from him, she would survive this, and she would get him back for what he had done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short update, but I have lots more banked up. I'll slow down the posting rate after the bank holiday so I don't run out before I write more.
> 
> As I say, this is my first time writing, so any comments, hints, tips, thoughts, of general musings are appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is rather taken with his new pet, and Jane couldn't be less pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No particular violence in this one,. Though there should probably be a blanket trigger warning for Loki's appaling views on consent and the role of women for the entire work.

Sleep must have found her eventually because Jane found herself waking, groggy, sunlight streaming through the broad windows. She narrowed her eyes against the light, sitting up to move away only to find herself a mess of aches and sore, injured flesh. Awareness and memory of the previous evening threatened to overwhelm her, but she refused to let it, taking deliberate, slow breaths.

“Good morning pet. Sleep well? I did. I don’t think I have slept so well as that in months. I shall certainly have to keep you.” She turned quickly to see from where he was speaking, not wanting him behind her and able to approach too close before she knew.

He was partially dressed, leather trousers with rows of metal pieces snaking up each thigh, but nothing else. She hadn’t really seen him last night and hadn’t wanted to look even when he wasn’t holding her face down into the mattress, but she could see now why she had been so easily overpowered. He wasn’t a picture of bulging muscle like his brother had been, but he was far from thin. Lean, rather. Where Thor had bulk, Loki was athletically built, whipcord muscle moving sinuously under porcelain skin. Jane turned away, staring at the floor. Would it be easier if he were ugly? If this were a story, he would be ugly. It was how these things were supposed to be.

“What, no kiss to greet the morning? You disappoint me lover.”

“I’m not, we’re not…” Jane was disgusted by the idea. “I hate you.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” His tone sharp where it had been playful. “I find I have no patience for hysterical whining of women who believe themselves to have been wronged.”

Jane couldn’t help but be outraged. “Believe? You raped me!”

“Hardly. You are my property; I shall use you as I like.”

“Property?” she stammered, then rather more confidently: “I hope Thor smashes your skull with that hammer.”

Loki laughed at this, a derisive, dismissive snort. “You clearly know so very little of that oaf. Was he sweet to you when he came to Midgard? Courted you with what fine words his slow wit could manage, laid you down gently with tender kisses?” His voice lilted as he spoke, an amused expression extending to glinting eyes. “Thor was always the first to choose the prettiest amongst the women after a battle. If he objects to my use of you, it will be because he believes he has the prior claim.”

“You lie.”

“Yes, but not about that. You are a naïve little thing indeed, Midgardian, if you think, that in his millennia of war, Thor has never dragged a woman screaming to his bed. It was always done that way. You defeat a man in battle, you divide up his chattel, keeping what you like for your own and burning the rest. If your enemy’s woman catches your eye, then so much the better.”

His matter of fact tone was repulsive. He may lie, but something told Jane that perhaps not about this. They had been gods to Viking raiders after all. She felt ill.

He smirked at her. “Oh good, naïve but not entirely witless. Your blonde dunce is far from the image of heroic might he likes to project.” He was approaching now, bare feet silent, an inhuman precision in his motion. Jane drew her bath robe tighter around her, for all the good it would do.

“You would do well to understand and accept your place, girl. I enjoy the fight, but it will grow tiresome. Keep it up and I will beat it out of you.” He was within reach now. Jane had just moments to decide if she should stay and accept what he planned, fight, or run.

The decision was made for her. He moved, faster than she would have thought possible, hand twisting through her hair and dragging her to her feet. She cried out, startled by the pain, and caught the back of his hand against her cheek.

“Undress for me pet. I didn’t see you properly last night. I should like to examine my property.” Jane didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, straining to keep her balance on the tips of her toes as he pulled at her hair. He pulled the knot of her belt loose and pushed the robe off her shoulders, letting it fall to her feet in a horrible echo of their previous evening. She tried to cover herself with her arms, but he hit her again, harder this time.

“I am going to let go, and you are going to be very still, you understand?” Jane nodded mutely, hating that she was accepting this, but too afraid to fight again. He released her hair, brushing a lock tenderly back behind her ear in a mocking gesture, before taking a step back. His eyes wandered from head to toe and back, lingering here and there. She hated him, hated this, hated how humiliating it felt. She would almost rather he dragged her back to the bed. But no, she was being silly. Let him look. Looking was less awful than the alternative.

“I suppose you are pretty enough. For a Midgardian. Low creatures that you are. You were not innocent before last night; you have taken other lovers?” Jane wanted to scream at him, hit him, bite, and scratch, but she ached, and she was afraid.

“Yes” she replied flatly.

“But not so many? You have known others in your bed, but you are… not experienced.”

“No.” There was no point in denying it.

“Did you lay with Thor?”

“That’s none of your business.” Another slap, knocking her back against the sofa.

“Up, or I shall drag you.” She stood, not wanting the pain of being pulled about by the hair. “You will answer me. I have… ways to make you. It would be easier if you simply told me.”

Jane swallowed, considering defying him, spitting in his face, and telling him to go to hell. “No. We didn’t. There was nothing like that.”

“Ha. An oaf and always was one. Pining over an unremarkable Midgardian wench he hadn’t even bedded. And Odin nearly made him King. What fools they are.”

Jane said nothing, staring at the floor slightly to the left of his bare feet.

“Your mortal lovers, I would not imagine that you have dared to be adventurous in bed games.” Jane didn’t know how to respond to this and didn’t want to. He was right, she supposed. Her longest relationship had been with Donald and that had been… she hadn’t liked to say anything at the time, and would hardly have known how anyway… Her thoughts were interrupted by Loki’s clipped tones. “I wonder if any of them made anything close to proper use of you. Your throat? Your arse?”

Outrage at the idea snapped Jane out of her defiant staring at the carpet. “God no, I would never.”

“Yes, you will. If I want you to. Which I may.”

He considered her, eyes raking up and down. “Pretty enough, but you don’t look like a whore. I think I should like you in nothing but silk and gold. But what to do…” He grinned, clearly having come to a decision, a glint in his too green eyes. “Stay very very still.”

Jane barely restrained the scream. An acidic green snake wrapped around his hand, tongue flickering out. She flinched as he moved towards her, not able to obey, even if she had wanted to. “I said be still. This one will not bite.” He lifted the hand with the snake holding it dangerously close to her throat. She couldn’t entirely see it now, but she felt it, winding slow coils around her neck. She held her breath, terrified. It pressed, not so hard that she struggled to breath, but so as not to leave a gap between her and it. Then quite as suddenly as it had appeared, it fell still. Janes hands flung to her throat, instinct telling her to pull the thing away, but she found nothing but cold metal.

“An improvement already.”

Where there had been one snake before, Jane found herself covered, wrists, ankles, coiling along her arms from elbow to shoulder, entirely frozen with fear, until one after another they twisted themselves to bite their own tails and stilled, scales hardening to gold, their emerald eyes still lifelike in the early morning light.

Loki still had one in his hand, his eyes resuming their indecent wanderings. He reached out a free hand, stroking along her collarbone, down, his fingers barely grazing her breast before settling at her hip. “Almost finished, no need to fret, but I really will need you to keep still for this.” He extended his arm, the snake lifting its head. Jane couldn’t look, lest she flinch away again. She felt something brush against her breast and assumed it was his hand. She screamed when it bit her. More in shock than pain. She looked down and to her revulsion and horror saw a piece of gold pressed through one nipple. How dare he?!

Another slap, though with little force. “Be still. I will not tell you again.” She was prepared for it this time. The pain wasn’t so bad without the shock, but her cheeks glowed red, from humiliation far more than his violence.

His lip curled. He still had the snake in his hand but was moving lower this time. “Don’t. Please don’t.” It was the first time she had begged. Everything he had done last night, and she had held it in, determined not to give him the satisfaction.

“Shhh, it will only hurt for a moment.” She felt his hand against her, touching, though detached, procedural. The bite did hurt. It punctured the skin just above that most sensitive bundle of nerves, searing momentarily, before the pain, thankfully, faded to dull ache. Jane squeezed her eyes closed.

He stepped back, flicking the snake away into golden light, admiring his work. “Now, you look like a proper whore. It suits you. Perhaps I should keep you in nothing but bruises, a split lip, and a gold collar.” Jane had nothing to say and nothing to do but stare at the floor. Surely he would get bored eventually. Didn’t he have a planet to finish conquering?

“I suppose the bruises are a bit much. I forget quite how fragile you are.” He grazed a finger across one cheek, placing the gentlest of kisses against the other. “Here,” his voice was suddenly much warmer, fuller, affectionate. It caught Jane off guard. He held out a small, dark bottle, corked and sealed with wax, “for your bath. It will ease the pain and heal much. Use the whole bottle.”

Jane accepted, not quite sure what to make of it. “Why?”

He stroked a hand through her hair. “Because the anticipation is so much of the fun. I can’t have you ruined before I have really begun.”

He kissed her lightly on the forehead, straightening, stepping back into the room and away from her.

“Bathe. I shall have breakfast and clothing brought. You will stay in here until I send for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love reading the comments, thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane does her best to hold it together, somewhat if not entirely successfully

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of breathing space, though with that we see why he had to combo the mind stone and space stone - mind controlling enough influential people into suicide all at the same time should have a pretty destabalising effect.
> 
> Loki will return next chapter.

Jane took a long, hot bath, begrudgingly grateful for the bottle Loki had given her. It smelled sweet as she poured it under the tap, though not any floral or fruity smell on Earth she knew. She scrubbed again, everywhere his hands or eyes had lingered, without really feeling much cleaner, but the heady scent and hot water did seem too help with the soreness.

She examined herself in the mirror again after her bath. Loki had apparently not been tricking her about the effect of the bottle: all but the worst of the bruising around her wrists had faded and even the bite on her shoulder seemed mostly healed.

As for the jewellery, she hated it. She tried to remove everything, though her hope was less with each new attempt. The bands around her wrists, ankles, and neck were one solid piece of metal without hinge or clasp. They were far too tight to remove. The coils stretching up each arm would move a little, but she couldn’t manoeuvre them past her elbow. The piercings were the worst of the lot. She had never liked the idea, aside from ears. The bars through each nipple were bad enough but the other! She looked, but couldn’t quite see, so begrudgingly felt along the tender flesh. There was a curved bar right through the clitoral hood, pressing continuously against her most sensitive spot. She gave it a tentative tug but swore at the answering spike of pain. She was definitely going to kill him for this, let alone the rest.

Loathe as she was to sit alone in that room and wait to be summoned, she couldn’t exactly spend all morning in the bathroom, so she tied the bath robe back around her waist and headed out.

There was a knock at the door perhaps ten minutes later. It was too polite to have been Loki, and besides, he wouldn’t knock.

“Who is it?”

“Breakfast and clothes.” A woman’s voice. Jane was tempted to tell her to go, to let herself wallow in her misery a little longer, but probably better not.

“Alright.”

A woman entered, a little older than Jane, dressed plainly, and with a bit of a haggard look. She was carrying a dress bag over one arm and a breakfast tray and parcel in her hands. Out of instinct Jane jumped up to help her, taking the tray. Jane set the tray down. There was a table with two chairs looking out over the city in the corner furthest from the bed which seemed as good a place as any for breakfast.

“Thanks, managed it all the way from the kitchens, but don’t like to think what happens if I drop it.” The woman, Jane noticed, did not have the intensely blue eyes she had grown to associate with the humans Loki kept around. For some reason she was wary of this.

“You aren’t… like the others.” She was tentative, not quite sure what the blue-eyed ones were.

“Zombie puppet slave? No. No, there are a few of us that aren’t.” Jane’s suspicion must have been obvious from her face as the woman quickly clarified: “a lot of us civilian staff in the tower surrendered when he came and took it over. He killed… most… but some of us he put to work. Menial stuff mostly, and the kitchen staff too. We’re all shit scared of him, but it is this or a bullet from the blue-eyes, so I’m going to be helping you out.”

Jane nodded, relaxing a little, though still not entirely certain. Loki, she remembered, was a trickster, and she should be careful not to take things as they appeared.

“I’ve got you breakfast, a dress, which you must promise not to hate me for, and after you’ve eaten, I’m to help you sort your hair and makeup.”

“Why would I hate you for the dress?”

“Oh you will see, eat first though or it will put you off your breakfast.”

“If that bastard wants to dress me up Princess Leia style it will be just one more reason to kill him.” The woman just laughed very awkwardly at this.

Jane sat, glad of the breakfast. Well, glad of the pot of coffee at any rate. She didn’t exactly feel in the mood for scrambled egg on toast but knew her chances of thinking her way to a solution would only be harmed by not eating.

“Thank you. I’m Jane by the way. Also, not a volunteer. In case you hadn’t guessed.” She gestured at the gold band fixed around her throat.

“Kate. And yeah, I figured… I can’t begin to imagine…” She trailed off.

“I’ll survive.” Jane sounded more determined than she felt at that moment. “Sit down, please, have some of the coffee. You are probably the only company I am going to get that doesn’t oscillate between threats of violence and, well, just violence.”

“Oh no, no, we have pretty strict instructions about things like that. I think the new boss is used to staff and ‘appropriate deference’.”

Jane didn’t push the matter, seeing the woman, Kate’s, obvious discomfort and not wanting to get her in trouble.

“Then tell me what is happening outside? If you can. I’ve been locked up for two days I think, and somehow in that time the world has… I get the idea things are different.”

“You could say that… There were a few things here and there, trouble in Germany I think, didn’t really know. Then the first thing we all really knew about it was when almost every world leader and half their governments and opposition committed suicide.”

“What?!” Jane nearly choked on the eggs.

“Some live on TV. Blue-eyes, all of them. All gave some speech about the end of humanity and slit their own throats. Few minutes after that a hole opens, up in the sky and an alien army is in New York wrecking the place. Not much more to tell.”

“A hole? What kind of hole? A portal?” The rest of the story was too much to process, but Jane’s attention was caught by this.

“I think so, though not really an expert on these things… Big black tear the size of Manhattan, could see the stars even though it was midday, then the aliens. Stark tower locked down after that and I haven’t seen anything since, but yeah, it all went to shit after that is all I hear.”

Jane chewed in silence, no longer really listening. Her mind was turning over the possibilities, considering each and dismissing all of them. Bifrost was one thing, but a stable portal the size of Manhattan? The power requirements would be, quite literally, astronomical, and several orders of magnitude more besides. It must have been something else.

Jane put down her knife and fork, most of the way through the eggs, conceding defeat.

“Alright. I suppose we had better get this over with, show me the damned dress.”

Kate winced as she opened the dress bag. At first it didn’t look too bad, all deep blue and green silk, until Jane realised that was all there was, and that it was rather sheer. She took the dress with a grimace and headed to the dressing room.

It wasn’t quite Return of the Jedi Leia ridiculous, but damn if it wasn’t far off. There was a solid waistband, supported by a twisted band of gold embroidery, but other than that nothing substantial. The skirt was wide bands of fabric, overlapping enough that the sheer material wasn’t quite so awful, ending with a lager, flat band about as wide as her hips at the front. It moved a lot and revealed more as it moved. The top was two overlapping pieces of silk, a little wider than her palm, that just about covered her breasts and nothing much else. Worse, the fabric pressed against them such that his horrible jewellery was clearly visible.

Jane was naturally rather modest, and it took a good few minutes for her to build up the courage to head out into the main room in this, but she managed in the end. She clenched her fists hard enough that her nails dug into her palms in an attempt to distract from the growing humiliation.

Kate was good enough not to stare and looked politely over Jane’s shoulder.

“Well, at least you have the figure for it I suppose. Sorry, that was the wrong thing to say.” It probably was, but Jane didn’t think there was a right thing to say.

Clearly trying to break the awkwardness, Kate opened the parcel. Amongst other things there was a makeup kit, a washbag, hairbrushes. “You have everything you should need. I think. He was pretty clear that you were to keep yourself looking well and...” she paused, choosing her words, “impressed upon me that you were to be presentable.”

“He told you he would do something shockingly violent if I wasn’t up to standard?”

Kate bit her lip. “Yeah, pretty much. So, I don’t doubt you are going to hate all of this, but…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll not be so selfish as to mess it up and get you in trouble.”

“Many thanks.” The relief was obvious.

Jane turned over the items, the only one that surprised her was something that looked like an electric razor. “Epilator,” Kate answered Jane’s unvoiced question. “He was also pretty clear that we aren’t to let you have anything sharp, but, as I say, you are expected to keep up with your appearance.”

“Isn’t he just charming.”

Jane sat quietly through the hair and makeup, allowing Kate to chatter away, presumably in an attempt to make Jane feel more comfortable with the whole thing. She had been an ‘assistant to an assistant to an assistant’ of Pepper Potts before the alien invasion. Jane felt sorry that she had been caught up in it all, but supposed that everyone would be now.

She found that she really did not like her hair being brushed. Something about the pull of each stroke kept reminding her of his hand twisting through it and using it to drag her about. They were memories she could do without.

“Shouldn’t the hair be up in some stupid Viking plaits of something like that.”

“No.” Kate bit her lip again. “He was pretty clear about that too. Loose hair is apparently indecent where he is from. He said that was appropriate for...”

“You don’t have to dance around it. I can guess what he said. He calls me a whore, his property, or some sneering pet name with nearly every sentence. I am getting used to it.” She hadn’t meant to sound so sharp and regretted it the moment she saw the other woman’s face fall.

“I’m so sorry, I wish I could help…”

Jane didn’t want to hear her sympathy, however well intentioned, and half turned away, afraid she would well up. “I’ll make sure not to smudge anything, don’t worry.”

Kate left in silence, taking the breakfast tray with her, understanding, it seemed, that Jane was at the edge of what she could bear.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki holds court and Jane has no choice but to sit and endure his idea of fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W for torture and violence (not towards Jane)

When Jane was eventually summoned, she went without a fuss. He had left her for hours, long enough to be brought lunch by a silent blue-eyes who watch her eat and made sure she didn’t palm any cutlery.

She was yet to decide whether waiting and imagining was worse than what may be in store for her. Usually she would say that imagined horror is worse than the real thing, but in this instance, she thought that Loki in person might be rather more creative in his unpleasant behaviour than the monster he was in her mind.

“Ah, darling thing, and don’t you look just good enough to eat.” He grinned, a picture of perfect teeth and malice. He had set himself up some sort of depraved mockery of a court, lounging carelessly in a high-backed chair, one leg hooked over an arm. There were perhaps a dozen people, all with the same intensely blue and intensely vacant eyes. She recognised nobody. “Come, greet your Lord and master with a kiss and sit at my feet.”

She didn’t dare disobey him in front of others. Jane understood, without having to be told, that Loki was the sort of proud that would object far more to disobedience in company than to anything she might say or do in private.

It was an awkward kiss. His helmet was entirely in the way, and she was certain he couldn’t have gotten any enjoyment out if it past humiliating her further. He didn’t let her go immediately, his hand still in her hair tight enough that she was forced to look at him, almost nose to nose. “Kneel, girl. Your proper place.” Loki guided Jane to the floor beside him, before turning his attention back to the room.

“What do you bring me, Spider, what did you find?” A very beautiful red headed woman turned blank blue eyes to face him.

“Stark’s workshop had everything you might want.” Her tone was flat, her words precise. “Sharps, pliers, hammer, acetylene torch…” Jane ran each item through in her mind - what on Earth did he want all of that for?

“What is an acetylene torch? Ah! Gamora, sister mine, and just in time.” He stood quickly to greet the newcomer, his hand finally leaving Jane’s hair. She watched him wrap his hand around the back of a woman’s neck in an apparent gesture of genuine affection. The woman, Gamora, did not return the motion, but seemed to accept it warmly enough. Her eyes swept the room, glancing at Jane only very briefly. She was as beautiful as the red head, despite or perhaps because of her green alien warrior woman appearance. She reminded Jane a little of Loki, both clearly dangerous and a picture in black leather and green.

“Brother. Father sends me to be your instrument in the razing of Midgard. What would you command of me?”

“We have much work to do, though indulge me a while. I have a prize I wish to savour. Midgard has so few remarkable beings, but I have one of their great heroes in my keeping. He took quite the beating before I could take him captive and shows almost Æsir endurance. We shall test its limits.” Jane understood the tools now and felt rather sick.

Loki turned away from his sister, arranging himself lazily on his chair, hooking a leg back over one arm and reaching to tangle his hand in Jane’s hair.

“Barton, go and fetch our guest. Spider, tell me what an acetylene torch is and show my sister the working of it.”

“It is for heating metal hot enough that it joins, sir.”

“And your advice on its use for our purpose here?”

“No direct skin contact sir. I would heat a blade to increase pain and to cauterise, preventing bleeding out too early.”

“Isn’t she the most wonderful of finds, sister?” Loki purred, tightening his fingers in Jane’s hair. “The mortal heroes had this delightfully vicious thing on a leash, allowing her to dream of redemption. Even you may learn something here.”

The woman, Gamora, gave no response. There was a cultivated hardness to her expression. Jane didn’t know what to make of her.

There was a lot of noise coming from the lifts, the sound of something heavy being dragged, that did not want to be dragged. Loki didn’t seem concerned, holding a blade out to Gamora as casually as one would offer a sweet.

“Cut the tendons on the back of the legs for me dearest sister. I keep having it done and he keeps on healing. I am a little weary of it.”

If Gamora had a problem with this instruction, she didn’t let it show, taking the blade with a slight bow of her head and striding from the room. It was barely a minute later that Jane heard the two, ragged, oddly muffled grunts of pain, one after the other in quick succession.

Gamora reappeared, followed by a group of men half carrying half dragging a battered blonde figure. For a horrible moment she thought of Thor, but it wasn’t. She recognised him though, now she looked properly, but from old documentary footage. Well, mostly recognised him. The leather thread binding his lips together must be one of Loki’s additions.

Loki held out his hand for the blade and Gamora passed it to him, handle first, before returning to help secure their captive. Jane wished for all the world that she could sink right through the floor before having to endure a moment more of this. It was vile. She hated him.

Loki twisted the blade in his fingers, appearing lost in thought. He looked down at her with what might have been his nastiest grin yet. “Lick it clean, whore.” He was holding the knife so the flat of the blade was parallel to her lips, almost touching them.

“What?” she half whispered, incredulous, but not wanting to be heard by the rest of the room.

“You heard. Now, and quickly. Mind your tongue against the edge though, I have other uses for that.” He was repulsive. But Jane still did not dare to disobey him in front of others. She wiped her tongue across the flat of the blade, sickened by a metallic taste that she was sure was nothing to do with its material. He turned it, and she licked again. Loki flicked the blade into nothingness, but returned his hand to where it had been, just in front of her lips. “And again.” Jane swallowed the rising queasiness and licked the blood from his fingers. One more reason to kill him.

“Spider, Gamora, is our guest ready? I have an idea.” He seemed to be done with her for now and Jane was grateful for it. She looked up to see the bound Captain America, still struggling furiously, but not successfully. “Your acetylene, it heats metal, correct?” ‘Spider’ gave a curt nod. “Take this in heavy tongs, heat until white, press once on each cheek.” He handed her a dull grey piece of metal that Jane couldn’t see properly. Still, she got the idea. She stared hard at a pulled thread in her skirt, just above her knee, determined not to watch.

“Let’s see if he rips the stitches.”

It didn’t help, not watching. She heard the hiss of the torch; she smelled the ozone of its flame. But worst by far was the acrid stench of burning flesh. It took everything she had to restrain herself from being sick. At first, he made no sound at all, then a restrained roar through a clenched jaw, until eventually he gave in, and cried out. It was a harrowing thing to hear.

“I won’t tell you a thing. Do what you like. I can do this all day.”

Loki simply laughed. “My dear soldier, I don’t think I have a single question for you. This isn’t an interrogation.”

“Then why?”

“For the simple pleasure of it. And to see what marks I can leave on those flawless warrior looks of yours.”

Loki’s hand was back in her hair, tugging her upwards. He pulled her to sit across his lap, not really paying her any attention, slipping a hand idly between the layers of her skirt.

“He screams quite as prettily as you do, my dear.” His attention was on her now, though he looked straight ahead at the vile scene. He spoke in that low, purring voice that she had come to find just as frightening as his more violent moods.

“You know, Barton tells me that our Captain here has never known another in his bed. It seems such a shame to send a man to his grave like that.” He was walking his fingers up her thigh and Jane pressed her legs tight together before he got any ideas. He breathed a half laugh through his nose, before carrying on. “Doubtless a pinnacle of mortal beauty. I should have had him in by bed but, well, you understand, blonde and muscle bound rather sours my appetite.” Jane was trying not to listen to him. He was poisonous at the best of times.

“Hey, you leave the girl alone, you’re fight is with me.”

“Do you hear that,” he dropped the low purr, falling back into his lilting taunts, “you have an admirer, whore. Captain, I am afraid there is little to be gained in fighting for her honour, there none left to be saved.” He smiled, relaxing back into his seat, pulling Jane more comfortably into his lap. “She is fun for a Midgardian though, defiant one moment, a trembling mouse the next. Though I shall be honest with you, boy, I keep her mostly for the tight cunt.”

Jane couldn’t summon the courage to speak, and sat in silent revulsion, not daring to draw his attention.

“How dare you…”

“Gag him.” Loki cut across. “Or keep his throat so full of screams he ceases to talk, your choice.” Jane didn’t look, but she felt Loki’s breath against her ear as he resumed his foul whispering. “I think I understand now. When we finish here, I shall send you to our invalid captain. You shall play nursemaid. You will be very sweet, tending to his wounds so very gently. He wants to be your protector, so let that resilient mask of yours drop for a moment, let him see you vulnerable. Innocent as he is, he will be quite yours if you play this well.”

“And why,” Jane hissed through gritted teeth, resolutely ignoring the hand that had found the top of her thigh, “would I do that.”

“You will seduce the handsome soldier, my little whore, and you will lay down with him. Give him some pleasant memories before I slit his throat.”

Jane breathed deeply before replying, taking a moment to gather her courage. “No. I won’t. Hurt me all you like, I can’t stop you, but I won’t do that. You can’t make me.”

“You would be doing him the greatest of kindnesses, my sweet little pet,” he rumbled, between open mouthed kisses along the pulse below and behind her ear. “You see, I shall see him bedded before the axe. Far kinder that it is you. I’d offer him to Gamora, but she has no taste for such games, so it is either you, or every guard in this tower.”

Jane pulled away from him, turning to face him with unconcealed disgust. “I…” She wanted to refuse, she didn’t want to be part of his nasty little games, but she had no response to that.

“Hmmm, yes, good girl. It is hardly a hardship. Why, you can pretend he is the oaf of an áss you like so much. The resemblance is striking.”

He seemed contented for the moment, having whispered all the poison he had, and watched the scene in front of him with detached aristocratic amusement.

“Spider, have him taken back down to his cell when you are finished. And sister, we must talk about the real work we have ahead. I shall come and find you.” Then turning to Jane, stretching out one leg: “and you, get up and follow me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cutting the back of the leg just above the knee is called hamstringing and is attested in Germanic myth as a way to cripple a captive (see Weyland the Smith for a story to make this one look cheery).
> 
> p.s. I have loved reading the comments on this, you guys have been super positive! As a first time writer it makes all the difference and I will definitely keep going with this. Thank you!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki isn't getting any easier to deal with, but Captain America proves better company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T\W for sexual violence

Jane had followed him back to the room, not knowing what he had planned and not really wanting to. He rounded on her the moment the door closed, walking them forwards until her back pressed against the wood.

“Kneel, mortal.” His eyes were dark, his intentions obvious.

“You want me to,” Jane stuttered “after that?! That got you going? You’re vile. I won’t.” She expected a slap or the back of his hand, but he simply smirked and stepped back.

“I can’t deny that having you in my lap while Spider cut into that heap of blonde bulk sparked a few distracting little thoughts. I have much to accomplish today though, so I will not leave them unspent.” He darted forward, grabbing her by the hair and dragging her to her knees. Jane fought, twisting away from him, but found herself increasingly unable to move. The snakes around her wrists pulled together, wrenching her shoulders back, making her cry out with the pain of it.

“Sometimes I shall want your participation in this, sweet little tongue put to its proper purpose, but for the moment all you need to do is keep your mouth open and your teeth away. Even as dull a thing as a mortal can manage that,” he sneered, the hand not in Jane’s hair moving to the laces at the top of his trousers.

“I hate you. I’ll bite if you come near me.” This time the blow did come, the back of his hand splitting her lip again.

“Bite and I’ll pull your teeth.” For a moment Jane thought it would be worth it

The last time anyone had tried to push themselves into her throat it had been an overeager college boyfriend. Jane had nearly thrown up and had kicked him out of her bed for attempting it without warning her. Loki was rather more successful, seemingly quite determined to choke her, letting up for barely long enough for her to catch her breath before pressing back down. There was nothing she could do but continually swallow hard and try to relax lest she throw up.

With a few last rough thrusts, he pulled out past her lips. Jane wasn’t fast enough in closing her aching jaw to avoid the first thick rope of bitter fluid, though most landed on her cheek and chin.

He wiped a finger through it and pressed it into her mouth.

“Swallow, like a good whore.” For a moment she considered disobeying him, but it wasn’t worth it.

He released his grip on her hair, stepping back. Jane sagged, her breath ragged, wiping her eyes where they had watered. At least he would leave he alone now.

“Mortal,” his tone was light, but Jane’s stomach still fell as he turned back towards her. “You were sloppy, mortal.” He gestured towards the toe of his boot. One white drop clearly visible.

“I’m sorry, I’ll go and get a cloth.”

“You misunderstand me. Haven’t you learned? You are to clean up such mess yourself. Now get on your hands and knees and lick.”

Jane gaped up at him, incredulous. Did he seriously expect her to lick his boot? Let alone lick them clean of a mess he had made.

Apparently he did, because he pushed her roughly to the ground. With her wrists still bound, Jane fell forwards hard, barely managing to not smack her nose against the carpet. He pressed the boot forwards. Jane swallowed what little pride she had left and wiped her tongue quickly across the surface.

“There’s a good creature.” He purred, releasing whatever magic held her wrists. Jane pushed herself upright and back away from him.

“Clean yourself up, but not too much, the Captain should pity you. Go to him and tend his wounds.” He paused, before speaking again in a more normal register. “I’ll be busy for a while, I think. You may come and go between here and his cell if you like. You will sleep here, and otherwise keep out of the way, and out of sight.” At that, he turned on his heel, leaving her in a pile on the floor.

**

Jane washed the evidence of his treatment of her off her face as best she could. Her makeup had run where her eyes had watered so most of that had to come off too. She couldn’t redo it and was in no mood to. That left a brand-new split lip and a very conspicuous red mark across her cheek. It would have to do.

The door to the hall was locked. He always locked her in. It was almost a surprise to have it opened when she knocked, a gruff blue-eye telling her to wait for an escort so she could go to see Captain Rogers.

Jane wanted the company, wanted not to be suffering this alone, so she was going to see him. And yes, she would help tend to his wounds and be kind, of course she would, and not because Loki wanted her to. The other thing he wanted… repulsed her. Not because of who it was, who would say no to that, but because it felt like a repulsive manipulation and a betrayal. Which of course it was. She hadn’t decided whether she could go through with that yet. Still, despite all the things Loki had done to her and made her do, she had never felt dirtier than at that moment in the lift going down to the Captain’s cell.

**

“Hey, you awake?” Jane spoke in a low voice, not wanting to disturb his sleep if he had found it. Captain America looked half dead, laid out on a cot bed in what looked like it had once been a lab.

“Mmhm?” He half opened one eye, cautiously, wary despite his clear exhaustion. He relaxed a little on seeing Jane.

“Not that I don’t appreciate it,” he swallowed, voice tight, speech clearly causing him pain, “but you shouldn’t have come. Don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“It’s ok.” Jane smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way, “I’m allowed. Guards even gave me this for you.” She gestured at the first aid kit she was carrying, approaching slowly.

He nodded, the slightest of movements, but an acknowledgement all the same.

Very cautiously, Jane sat beside him on the bed so she could see to the worst of the injuries across his chest, leaving space between them. She set the bandages down where he could see them, trying to be as non-threatening as possible.

“You don’t have to… but… thank you.” The burns on his cheek began to weep a little as his movement split the scabs. Worse, the holes through his lips were still ragged where he had torn the stitches out.

“You don’t have to talk at all. I see it hurts. There’s no need. I don’t know there’s much first aid can do about any of this, but I can clean and bandage.”

“I’ll heal.”

Jane didn’t respond, not wanting to encourage him to talk more when it so clearly worsened the partly healed burns, let alone the torn lips. The burns were the worst though, so she would see to them first. There was antiseptic in the kit, and sterile dressing. It would have to do.

“I’m sorry about this, it is going to hurt, but I have to clean your face. There is soot and muck… it will scar.” She took the answering nod as approval enough and started to work as carefully as she could. The burns were horrible. The flesh cracked and blistered, and where it had started to heal, it split every time he moved. But that wasn’t what appalled her.

Jane’s natural inclination after Thor’s visit to Puente Antiguo had been to read and to study everything ever written about Norse myth. Then, after that, Germanic myth more broadly, even reconstructed Proto Indo-European myth. She had read every surviving scrap of obtuse verse and various increasingly tenuous theories about their real-world origin. When reading academic papers hadn’t been enough, she had painstakingly taught herself enough old Norse that she could just about read it herself. After all that, it was hardly a surprise that she recognised the shape.

Each cheek was marked with a long vertical line with a short hook running diagonally from the top and down towards the right. It would be the first letter of Loki’s name if written in runes. Loki had had Captain America branded with his initials. Vile bastard.

Captain America was admirably brave through what most have been a lot of pain, but Jane managed to clean everything up well enough and wrapped the worst in clean bandages. She felt rather better having done something useful, even if it was on the instructions of a monster.

“I think you are all done. Sleep, if you can. I can come back to check on you and change them.” Jane moved to stand but felt a hand close ever so gently around hers. She jerked away without thinking, reminded of Loki.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” He looked guilty. Jane hadn’t meant to make him feel guilty. There had been nothing wrong with him touching his hand to hers.

“No, don’t worry.” She very deliberately placed her hand in his. “It wasn’t you. I’m just a bit jumpy.”

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, his jaw clenched. “He hurts you.”

“Not like this,” Jane gestured to the now neatly bandaged wounds, “but…” She trailed off.

He lifted is hand, slow, cautious movements, giving her every opportunity to move away or tell him to stop, but Jane didn’t. She allowed him to brush his thumb over the ugly mark on her cheek, his eyes falling to her split lip. She gave a weak smile. “If that were all it was, I wouldn’t mind so much.

“I’m sorry. I tried to fight. I fought him, in Germany. But he’s stronger, faster. Knew every move before I made it. Nobody has been able to lay me out like that since before the serum. I kept getting up, but he wasn’t even getting tired.”

“Don’t.” Jane took his hand again, rubbing her thumb against his knuckles, glad of warm, reassuringly human contact. “I’ll be alright. It isn’t your fault. There’s nothing you could have done.”

“I should have been better.”

Jane released his hand, laying it down by his side, collecting up the remains of the first aid kit.

“I’ll be back to change the bandages. Please rest? It’s ok, really, you aren’t to blame. I’ll be fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WIll she dare go through with Loki's orders?
> 
> Thanks so much for the comments and kudos guys - as a first time writer it is lovely to hear from people and know that you enjoy the work!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki continues to cause trouble for the world and Jane in particular and even the comfort she finds in the company of Steve is tainted by Loki's orders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W for violence (not against Jane) and for non violent but definitely non-consential sexual activity.

Jane went back to visit Captain America, or Steve, as he had insisted she called him, once more that evening and twice the next day. It felt reassuringly normal. They talked a little, but mostly there was a comfortable silence as Jane cleaned and rebandaged the rapidly healing injuries. At her last visit, he had even been able to stand, though it seemed to give him little hope. ‘I always heal, and they always cut the tendons again’ he had told her.

It was late now, but she could hardly sleep, so Jane stood watching the stars from the room. The Milky Way spilled out over the ragged New York skyline, an alien image of familiar stars.

A hand slipped around her waist, tugging her back against an armoured chest. She simply closed her eyes. She had known it was only a matter of time.

“Open your eyes, my pet. You look quite beautiful in the starlight. It suits us both.” She complied, wordlessly. Naming every star in her head as he kissed a trail along the pulse in her neck.

“How fares the mortal boy? Does he fall for you yet?” He nipped a little at her shoulder as he pushed the dress aside.

“It isn’t like that.”

“Stalling, girl? Unwise. Perhaps I should set you a deadline.” His fingers slipped under the fabric, brushing gently against her breasts. Jane didn’t fight him at all, she just kept looking determinedly out at the stars. She ignored his teasing kisses, the movement of his hands, and the brush of soft curls falling onto her bare shoulder.

“But later, I think. There are other things I would have of you now. Take off your dress for me.” Jane slipped the fabric from the other shoulder and untied the band at her waist, letting the dress fall. There was no point fighting him. She was tired. He would do what he liked and leave her alone. Better it be over quickly.

“You are learning, pet, I am so very pleased with you. I’m in no mood for a fight tonight. Be good, and I shall be gentle.” He tilted her chin, moving to kiss her and Jane allowed it. His lips may have been too cool, but his mouth was hot against hers, greedy and possessive. He tasted of spice and honey.

“Go over to the bed. Lay down on your belly for me.”

**

It hadn’t been nearly as bad as the first night. He had been gentle. Relatively speaking. It had still hurt. Jane scrubbed herself again under steaming water. At least there wasn’t blood this time.

He was gone by the time she returned from the bathroom. Back out to carry on taking over the world she supposed. Vile thing.

She didn’t sleep well, even without him there, and she paid little attention to Kate’s chatter over breakfast or as her hair was brushed and face made up. It seemed Loki had destabilised a good chunk of the world and the whole place was a mass of war, coups, and general disorder. Well wasn’t that lovely for him.

Jane pushed the other nagging thought away, the one that told her that there was probably no going back to the way things were before. Too much had been damaged, too many dead. Even if she slit his throat while he slept, there was little hope for the world.

And where was Thor and where were Asgard? Not here, not dragging their wayward prince back to Odin in chains. Hadn’t Thor said that Earth was under his protection?

Kate silently redid her makeup without comment.

**

He called for her just after the guard had given up watching her push her lunch about her plate. He was already spread lazily on his mock throne, his eyes fixed on Captain America, bound and gagged on the floor. His arm wound around Jane’s waist as she approached him, pulling her onto his lap and into an awkward kiss. The metal of his helmet pressed uncomfortably against Jane’s cheek as he held her against his lips.

“You are quite the remarkable creature, soldier. You heal as well as any from the higher species. We shall have to be more inventive with you.” He summoned a blade, passing it to the red-haired woman with a curl of his lip. It looked entirely dull and unremarkable, and Jane couldn’t immediately see why he was bothering. They had plenty of knives already.

“Mind the edge, Spider. You will only need shallow cuts. Keep the gag in. I am weary of screams.” He settled back, twisting Jane a little so he had he how he liked and could resume his usual stream of poison.

It was a while before he spoke, he simply watched the horror with a detached amusement, slowly caressing her thigh through the too thin fabric. Jane sat as still as she could, not wanting to encourage him, and tried to ignore it all.

“I am told that you have been to see him often. Are you being a dutiful whore, or are you rather taken with the boy? When you lay with him, will it be because I ordered it, or because you desire it.”

“I told you, it is not like that.” She hissed, under her breath. His hand was inside her skirt again. All her dresses were the same insubstantial scraps of silk and did nothing to keep him out.

“Then tell me, dearest, what is it like? You have been quite chaste; I know that much. Innocent touches, comforting one another.” Long fingers had worked their way up to the top of her thighs. Jane squeezed her legs shut as usual, but he breathed a low rumble of a laugh in his throat. “Don’t make a scene, pet. You wouldn’t want him to look up and know. Relax, and don’t make a sound.”

Jane looked, briefly, at the captain, wanting to be sure he hadn’t noticed. She didn’t like the idea of him knowing what Loki was starting to do.

She needn’t have worried. He was a mess already. Something in that knife burned and ate away at the wounds. Jane turned towards Loki’s shoulder, hiding her disgust and her growing shame.

Loki’s fingers were at their insistent work. Whether it was millennia of practice or simply a natural talent he soon found the precise movements to tease unwilling arousal. It was a purely physical thing, she reminded herself, he still revolted her.

“That’s it, girl, wet for me, though barely. We can do better than that.” He pushed a finger inside, hooking it forwards, in moments finding every sensitive place that she had wished past boyfriends had known about. She bit the inside of her cheeks.

“So, you are not incapable of pleasure? Good. We shall explore that later. You are far too timid in it. You are a whore now. You might as well enjoy it when I am in a mood for you to.” He sucked a kiss against her neck as he added another finger. “I wonder if the boy will please you. Midgardian men are often such disappointing lovers, and this one… so inexperienced and yet so strong? You shall have to guide his hand carefully and teach him how to take you.”

Jane hated him, his clever fingers, and the ease with which he could have her like this even after what he had done. She could feel a heat building, but refused it, picturing every star in the night sky, and reciting their names in her head.

Loki withdrew his hand unexpectedly, offering her his fingers to suck clean and turning his attention to the room.

“That is enough for today, I think.”

He stood, Jane sliding off his lap and just managing to get her legs under her before she fell. He had made no effort to catch her, despite the arm still wrapped about her waist.

“Take him back and allow the girl to see to his wounds.” He released her, but only for a moment, “One more thing girl,” he caught her wrist, bringing her close enough to hear him whisper “I said I would give you a deadline. You have seven days.”

He grinned, nastily, as he released her, his perfect teeth and pretty face not making it any less chilling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love reading your comments, thanks so much guys!  
> Yes, this story is definitely going to a darker place than many, but hopefully never gratuitous or out of character. I see the Avengers era Loki character as self destructive and absolutely spiralling, having fun hurting others to distract himself.  
> Hopefully it isn't too relentlessly dark!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane is starting to find ways to endure Loki's attention. Loki is aware, and not happy at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W for non cosential (but non violent) sex)

“Hey, brought you a present.” Jane held the fresh first aid kit out to Captain America in a vain attempt to lighten the mood.

“Thanks doc.” His voice was weak. Too weak. Weaker by far than it had been the last time. She stepped quickly to his side, taking her usual seat on the bed.

“I’m not a doctor you know. Well, I am. I have a doctorate. But I’m not that kind of doctor. It’s only because you heal so well anyway that I’m not doing more harm than good.” In her worry she was rambling. The cuts looked bad and she knew it. The deepest of them were open sores, foul ulcers cut into the muscle. If she hadn’t seen it done with a knife, she would have assumed acid.

His skin was clammy. Jane laid a hand on his forehead and felt more heat than there should have been.

“That bad?” She wiped the worry of her face, giving him her most convincingly reassuring smile.

“Nothing you won’t heal in a moment, no need to worry.”

“But I do worry. Not about me, but you. I see how he is with you. I hate to think of him touching you.”

Jane flushed with embarrassment. “And I hate it when he does touch me, but there’s nothing I can do about that.” Jane hadn’t meant to sound so sharp. She had never been one to snap before.

She breathed, calming herself, knowing he hadn’t meant anything by it. “I’m sorry. I just wish I weren’t so helpless here. I tried to fight him at first, but, well, you are a lot stronger than me and you know how that goes. I tried to kill him too. Once with a broken bottle, and again when he was asleep after,” she stumbled, “after the first night I spent here.

“It doesn’t do any good. So now I just think of something else until he’s finished with me. I appreciate that you worry, that it upsets you to think of him hurting me, but I won’t have anybody’s pity.”

Captain Rogers said nothing, simply taking her hand in his and stroking his thumb against her palm.

Jane managed to calm herself, breathing slowly, concentrating on the warmth of the hand. Loki was always cool to the touch. It helped push him away from her mind.

“I’m being selfish. Look at what that bastard did to you. And oh god you are burning up! I can’t help the fever, but I’ll clean these as well as I can. If it was something on the knife then it will be well into your bloodstream by now, but maybe it will help just a little.”

“Even if it doesn’t, I appreciate it. I’ll be ok.”

It took Jane a long time to clean everything and pack some of the worse sores with sterile dressing, but she managed it without losing her temper again. She hurried back to the room, wanting to stare into the darkening sky in silence for a while before Loki came for her.

**

“I think I shall always like you best in starlight. Perhaps I should enchant them to follow you, even in the broadest of sunlight.”

“Don’t.” Jane had no patience for him this evening. “Do what you are going to do, I won’t fight you, but don’t talk like that. I’d rather you called me a whore.”

“Fine.” Even without looking Jane could hear that his jaw had tightened. “Then be a good whore, get undressed, and lay down on the bed.”

Jane undressed in silence and without ceremony, wanting this over quickly. She lay face down on the bed, not wanting to look at him, and knowing that he preferred it that way. But he didn’t join her. Rather, he walked slowly around the bed adjusting her limbs, stretching her arms out to each side, and spreading her legs. She let him. It didn’t really matter. He seemed pleased enough with his work and Jane never knew nor cared why, until the cuffs on her wrists and ankles gave a tug, holding her in place. Only then did she feel the bed dip, though he still didn’t touch her.

“Just get on with whatever you are going to do. I hate your games, and I’m tired.”

“And that really is the problem, my dear. You don’t know how to enjoy being fucked. I doubt you ever did. But I did tell you that I would teach you. Some days I would have you take pleasure in my touch, not simply endure it.”

“I will never, ever.” Jane’s words were cut off by a wad of material, shoved roughly into her mouth.

“That was a mistake. You will learn that begging is a privilege in such games, and I have been known to have mercy when the pleas are pretty. Now,” he ran a hand down the outside of her leg and back up the inside, stopping just before the top “ah. You would be a sorry whore if you can’t learn to find some satisfaction in your work. I can offer you that and far more. You hate me, I know that, but I can overwhelm your senses and drive everything else from your mind. You can lose yourself in it. There is something to be said for that.”

He moved, and started to touch her again, his hands teasing and exploring, but never straying too close to anywhere more sensitive. If she turned her head, Jane could just about see the stars still. She resumed her drill of naming all that she could, determined to ignore him.

A curtain of black ink fell in front of Jane’s eyes, obscuring her view. “I know what you are doing.” He was speaking straight into her ear again. She closed her eyes and willed him away. “Your body surrenders but you take your mind off somewhere else. It isn’t what I want” Screw him and what he wanted. “Sometimes I shall be perfectly content to hold you down and take my pleasure from you, but not always. I have never failed to bring a partner to ecstasy when I have turned my mind to it.” He slipped a hand between them, settling between her legs. “I wager you would be a beauty when you come, and you will come for me when I chose.”

A jolt of something shot through every sensitive nerve as his fingers found her, shocked, she twisted hard away from him, pulling helplessly against her bonds. It wasn’t pain though, god far from it. She wished it were. “Magic, my pretty creature,” he laughed, “did I not promise you such ecstasy as to strip you of your thoughts? I can tease each nerve in turn…” No amount of counting stars was helping her now, the sensation was overwhelming. Waves of sensation rolled across her washing out from his hands. It was building, she could feel it, her body tightening under his. And then nothing. He moved his hand away.

“I like you much better like this. Tense, soaked.” Jane felt him sit up and hoped for a moment that he was done with games, but teasing fingers pressed back into her. She was thankful at least that there was no more magic. She could fight her own body, but not that.

He traced back and forth with his fingers before removing them and replacing them with something thicker, blunt, and cool.

Finally, he was getting on with it and would leave her be.

But what he pushed inside her wasn’t what she thought.

“My chaste, timid little doe, I would usually spend hours doing this, I do so love tempting a frightened maid into wanton debauchery, but I have worlds to conquer.”

The thing moved inside her, pressing, exploring, before finding a spot and starting to buzz. Jane bit hard into the gag, barely hiding a whimper.

“One is sweet, but we should not neglect the other.” He was kneading the flesh of her thighs, moving up, before pressing a slicked finger against her arse. She squirmed hard, bucking her hips, only succeeding in increasing the sensation of the thing already inside her. He held her hip with one hand and fucked a finger lazily into he with the other.

“Far too tight to have you this way yet, but we shall work on that, shan’t we whore.” Just like before, his hand was removed and returned to press an object into her. It stung as it stretched her, despite the amble lubrication and his careful pace. Still, he managed to get it seated, it too pressing inside her, moving, twisting, torturing every nerve.

The weight lifted of the bed. “I’ll be back in an hour. They will not let you come. You may beg to be allowed when I return.”

Jane looked around furiously craning her neck, but it seemed her really was gone. Damn him and his games.

The things inside her were insistently reminding her of their presence. She could ignore it at first, but the building rolling heat just would not stop, pushing her almost to the edge before dropping back. By the third, fourth, fifth build she no longer cared about resisting his whims, she just wanted to get off and for this to stop. She pressed her hips into the mattress, twisting, trying to get some friction. She almost managed it, the horrible piercing he had forced on her pressing just where she wanted it, but those damn things, she was sure they knew when she was close.

She lost count of their cycles, her muscles ached, her hair tangled about her like a nest. She could smell herself. But still it would not stop, and no trick or drill to distract herself helped even a little.

**

She had never been thankful to see him before, his pale, taught body, stripped to the waist. Jane dared to meet his eyes, hoping that she looked defiant, but couldn’t hold his heated gaze for long, his greedy dilated pupils drinking in the sight of her.

He approached the head of the bed, sitting demurely by her side, unwinding the gag.

“You are exquisite like this. I shall like to do this to you often. But for now… you will be wanting release.”

“Yes, damn you.” He smiled, making a low, throaty purr of a noise that was not helpful at all in her current situation.

“Oh, pet no, you have to ask much more prettily than that. Tell me what you want. I can be a merciful god.”

Jane wanted to scream at him and spit whatever bile came to the front of her mind, but she knew he would leave her in this state. It wasn’t as if she had much pride left to swallow. “Please, let me get off. I need to.”

He cocked his head, examining her, making no move to help her at all.

“You can do better than that. I don’t want you begging to come, I want you to beg me to make you.”

“Then please make me come. Please, just stop this. Loki, please.”

The use of his name seemed to be the trick because he stood, walking round the bed, and she felt it dip.

He removed the first of the two hateful things, twisting four fingers inside her, coating them. He shifted, pressing down on top of her, offering her the fingers.

“Keep them in your mouth, whore, taste yourself as I fuck you.” He kissed her behind the ear, before pressing inside her, rocking his hips.

Hate him as she did, she couldn’t deny the relief. He was rough, as rough as he had been that first night, but Jane was long past caring. The object still wedged inside her pulsed to his hard rhythm. She came, blindingly, hands clutching against the invisible ropes that bound her, but he did not let up, not until after the third, exhausting crash of sensation had sent her boneless to the bed.

He didn’t move off for a long time, propping himself up on an elbow as he softened inside her, head pressed against her shoulder. He released the magic that held her though and Jane stretched and rubbed her aching limbs. The second of his toys was gone too before he collapsed next to her in bed.

“You can sleep here. I won’t bite. Doubt you can walk, and I’m not carrying you.” Jane wanted to object, even in her exhaustion she didn’t want to share a bed with him, but he was right, her limbs wouldn’t obey her. She managed, just, to crawl up the bed to the pillows and rolled away from the middle.

“Before I forget,” he added, sounding as if he were half asleep already, “if I catch you again with that trick of yours, keeping your mind elsewhere while I am with you, It will be a full night, not an hour, however sweetly you beg.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the positive feedback on this! I love reading it and it inspires me to keep on writing.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Loki reigns from Stark Tower, Fury and Coulson discuss the options to get out of this mess.

Nick Fury rubbed his one good eye with the back of his hand, leafing through the pile of reports. Hand-written in hard copy because hell knows when the backup power will finally give out.

It had all made for hard reading. He didn’t look at the death toll anymore; it was only an estimate. What was the point? It only went one way.

The chitauri weren’t really an army, they were locusts. They had spread outwards from New York in all directions, aimless in their slaughter. Loki appeared among them every so often, but as an observer, not as a general.

The alien hive rolling its way across North America was the least of his concerns. Hydra, damn Hydra of all people, were crawling out of cracks he didn’t even know were there. Every bad guy with a grudge was taking the fight to whomever was looking weakest, the lowest of shady opportunists were playing havoc with what little stability there was. God give him a plague of aliens any day. Ants and boots? Loki hadn’t stepped on them. He had kicked the whole nest open and let the chaos reign.

He had nothing he could send to his superiors. Those that were left. Half of them had gone blue eyed and hanged themselves. He had a good mind to go and find where Stark had passed out this time and poach the remains of what was probably good whisky.

There was a firm knock at the door. Coulson looked ten years older in a week. Fury could relate.

“Any good news for me?”

“Some. Not much.”

“Well, out with it.”

“I write it all up for you sir, everything I have.” Fury rubbed his eye again. He squinted at the page front page of what Coulson handed him, but damn he was wiped.

“Give me the highlights?”

“We had our first contact out of Stark Tower.”

“Stark got Jarvis working?” Now that would be something. He had been apparently working on that for days, but since Pepper and his injuries in New York Fury hadn’t seen him sober once. If they could get surveillance up and running again, they were really getting somewhere.

“No sir. Human intelligence.”

Damn. Still, better than nothing.

“We had a junior agent placed in Miss Potts’ office six months ago. Loki has conscripted some of the civilian staff. She has managed to stay alive, has some freedom to move about the tower, and has managed to get word out.”

Well, that was definitely better than nothing. “Tell me what you aren’t telling me. What’s the catch?”

“She’s green, sir. Out of her depth and terrified.”

“Holding it together?”

“Says so, but can’t be sure. Just written contact for the moment.”

If only his best agents weren’t following at Loki’s heel. Barton had been a blow, but Romanov… She would have been perfect.

“What have we got?”

“Lots of detail, she got a notebook out. Not so much we can use, but good background. Highlights, highlights…” Coulson thumbed through his copy of his notes. “Remember that incident in Puente Antiguo?”

“Man shows up, beats the crap out of your operatives, claimed to be the God of Thunder, was actually the God of Thunder? Yeah, kind of sticks in the mind.”

“Yes, well, remember the research scientist that Thor was staying with?”

“No, but go on.”

“As soon as Loki showed up, we got her to a safehouse in Norway, a precaution. We lost six agents and the girl.”

“And why am I only just hearing this?”

“Loki showed up in Germany a few hours after they missed check-in. We didn’t make the connection. I am sorry sir.”

“We’re all making mistakes. We are all tired. Go on.”

“The research scientist, one Dr Jane Foster, PhD in astrophysics,” Coulson handed him an obviously long-lensed photo. Pretty, not what he had expected. “has shown up.”

“Don’t tell me.”

“Loki has her locked up at the top of Stark Tower sir.”

Fury understood what Coulson wasn’t saying. “So, he’s abusing his brother’s girlfriend. Great. He’s also playing bingo with the International Criminal Court’s list of war crimes. “Fury hadn’t meant to sound so dismissive; he was sure she was a lovely girl having a terrible time, but what exactly could he do about it?

“That’s not what I meant sir. Dr Foster has access that nobody else does. He doesn’t keep her bound up. She sleeps in the same room as he does.”

“So, we have a green agent who may panic and break cover any day, and a civilian woman who, we are assuming, has been repeatedly raped by the alien tyrant holding her hostage. Not exactly what I had in mind when we first talked about the Avengers Initiative.”

“We can only work with what we have sir. We can get messages in; we can get small objects in too. We could get a weapon to Dr Foster.”

“When Loki came through that portal, he looked like shit, was barely standing, and still took a bullet to the face without blinking.”

“Perhaps something from phase two?”

“Yeah, maybe, it’s something. Have your agent sound Foster out. Loki scares the shit out of me, and I saw him for maybe three minutes. She has been his prisoner for, what, five days now? Who knows what state she will be in?”

“We’ll make it work sir.”

“God help us all if we don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter and a little bit of a break from our main characters to breathe and give some context. The vast majority of this will remain from Jane's PoV. 
> 
> Many thanks for the comments - I love reading them and it has been such positive feedback! I will definitely keep going with this! Let me know what you thought about the break from our main three and how well or otherwise the change in PoV works.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane is reminded that for all his capacity for charm, Loki is dangerous and there is always a need for caution.

Jane woke and for a beautiful moment thought she had woken from a nightmare, wrapped in soft bedding, safe at home. But she hadn’t. She could feel the aches from last night, she knew it had been real. Still, the moment had been lovely.

She opened her eyes. It wasn’t dawn yet, but it wasn’t far off. The moon waxed bright in the deep grey sky, the stars still visible without the lights of the city. Loki was sleeping too. She ought to move away before he woke but wasn’t sure she dared disturb him up by accident.

In his sleep he looked very young. His features were more clearly beautiful without the sneering grin that rather ruined them. He had long dark eyelashes resting delicately on those impossible cheekbones. He almost looked human.

There was still something, off, though, something not quite familiar feeling in his features, something that told her what he really was. The bones of his face were fine without being feminine, high cheekbones matched by an angular sweep of a jawline. It all looked rather too well-crafted to have happened by accident. She noticed that he had no pores where they should have been visible, and nor did he have the slightest hint of stubble. Whatever he might be, he certainly didn’t look like a monster.

He shifted in his sleep, the covers falling away and revealing more of flawless skin and sinuous muscle, dipping to slim hips with an elegant ‘v’. He was perfectly pale, and yet did not look sallow or sickly. Overall, it gave the effect of a finely carved work in alabaster.

She wondered what had happened to Thor’s mischievous younger brother to turn him into such a monster, or whether he had always been that way and Thor had been blind to it. She hoped it was the former and that it was still in him somewhere. Perhaps he could be redeemed. She didn’t think he wanted that though. No, he wanted to lose himself in blood and chaos, but she couldn’t guess what he ran from, and wouldn’t dare ask.

He shifted again, pressing his head into the pillow, his lips, flushed pink slightly parted, the only colour to his face. Jane watched as one side of his mouth started to curl.

“You smell like a Vanir brothel.”

Jane didn’t really know what to do with that. “I’m sorry, I’ll go shower.”

“No, stay a moment, it wasn’t a complaint. I have spent many a pleasant evening amongst Vanir whores.”

“Weren’t you a prince?” Jane mentally kicked herself. Her runaway mouth would get her in trouble, especially with him. Thankfully, his mood seemed light enough.

“Yes, still am I suppose, I doubt Odin would dare tell his people why I shouldn’t be.” He adopted a mock grandiose tone, still without opening his eyes. “A prince of the House of Odin obliged to be on my best behaviour with the fine women of the court. While I could always tempt them to my bed, we were only allowed to push things with the lower orders or when away at war. Believe me, you too would get bored of enticing noble ladies to stray from their husbands after the first century.”

It was so good to hear that he had such delightful hobbies even before he became a murderous psychopath.

“Either way, you smell well fucked. It suits you.”

Jane shifted, turning away from him, and pulling back the covers to get up. The remains of the previous evening were obvious both between her legs and on the sheets.

“Damn, we should be more careful.”

He sat up a little, the muscles of his stomach twisting under the skin to bring him up without the support of his arms.

“Oh,” he flopped back down, clearly deciding that it was not something worth getting up to deal with. “What does it matter? I will have the sheets changed.”

“I don’t care about the sheets, but we should be more careful.” This was something Jane had been worrying about for a while, not daring to mention it to him. Since he seemed in an amiable mood, having gone whole minutes without saying or doing anything too grossly offensive, it seemed like the best time.

He opened his eyes again, looking at her through narrow slits, the deep green obscured by heavy eyelashes. “What are you fussing about woman?”

Well, might as well go for it. “I don’t take the contraceptive pill or anything like that, it doesn’t agree with me, so this,” she gestured downwards, “could cause trouble, if it hasn’t already.”

He snorted. Rolling back and closing his eyes. “I thought you knew something of the workings of a body, girl, do you not study the natural world? We are not the same species, not even close.

“It may be possible,” he mused, apparently more to himself, “but not through flesh alone. I would have to help things along with magic, and even then, a child of mine would likely kill you. You needn’t worry though. If I wanted heirs, I wouldn’t get them on a Midgardian of all things.”

“Well I shall be ever thankful that I am one then.”

He opened one inhuman eye. “I was wrong, it isn’t a brothel I smell, it is a horse after a hard gallop. Go and bathe.”

**

Jane had never been so grateful to be kicked out of bed. She knew she had to be much more careful around him than that. He had looked so disarmingly harmless asleep and he had such an easy charm when he wanted, but he was dangerous. He was proud, capricious, and violent. That could have gone very differently.

She took her time showering, scrubbing harder than was necessary. The aches were different this morning, and she didn’t know that she liked it.

Before last night, it had been impersonal, it was easier to detach herself. He had been using her to get off and that was all there was to it. This twisting of her own pleasure as a weapon to use against her, it was somehow worse. She knew her physical enjoyment had been just that, no more voluntary than moving when he dragged at her hair.

God, he had made her beg for it. She had pushed that from her mind, but it all came back to her now.

She washed her face again, hoping her eyes weren’t too red, and headed back to the bedroom. There was nothing to be gained by wallowing.

Stepping out into the room, she could feel the awkward tension before she processed what she was seeing. Loki was up, tousled hair and leather trousers around his hips were familiar enough, but the sour expression was new. Kate was there too, breakfast tray on the table, a dress bag still over her arm. She was standing with her back to the wall, eyes flitting up to Loki before returning to anxiously watching the carpet.

“Shall I go?” Jane broke the silence, hesitantly, testing the waters as carefully as she could.

“No. It is you with whom I need speak.”

He didn’t seem particularly angry, just, tense. Still, his moods could change moment to moment. Jane approached, very slowly, ready to back away if he moved.

“Can Kate go then? I’m here, I’ll talk, whatever it is. You know I won’t fight you.”

A muscle in his jaw jumped, but he nodded, raising his voice to address Kate without looking at her. “Wait outside girl.” The other woman gave Jane a grateful nod as she hurried out.

“If I did something wrong, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” She felt like she was persuading a tiger not to eat her.

“You refuse food. You do not eat.”

Jane was almost relieved, not quite comprehending what he was so fussed about. Still, his expression was hard and unreadable, something was clearly bothering him. “I… haven’t had much of an appetite for the last few days.” When he didn’t respond, Jane’s natural tendency to ramble got the better of her. “Its ok though, I’d often forget to eat when working in the lab, days sometimes, lived entirely off black coffee. I’m fine, really.”

“That’s all it is?” He was looking at her very oddly.

“Yes, why, what else?”

“It is a poor way to escape me, and an unpleasant end if that is what you intended.”

“What? God, no, nothing like that.” Now she began to understand some of his mood, but still, not really. It seemed an odd leap to go from a few barely touched meals to hunger strike.

Deciding that action was likely more persuasive here she marched past him to the table and took a large bite out of a piece of toast. It was dry, and she nearly choked chewing it. Still, it seemed to soften his demeanour a little.

He reached out a hand, brushing a damp strand of hair behind her ear. “You will eat. You will sleep better too.”

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Because you are my property and it suits me that you are in good health.” His brusque, clipped tone returning, not quite covering for his earlier odd note. “You were told to take care of your appearance. I do not intend to bed a skeleton.” With that he simply stalked off, clothes – cape, helmet, and all, – appearing in a shimmer of gold.

Well that was unnerving and entirely unexpected. She could hear him outside, presumably talking to Kate or the guard, but not what he was saying. He hadn’t been angry, but it wasn’t anything else she could easily pin down. Not worry either. And why would he care?

Kate returned, looking rather shaken.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t want to tell him, but he asked how you were managing and didn’t believe me. I wouldn’t have said anything, but…”

“I understand,” Jane cut in. “I get it. I’m not cross. What was all that about?”

“I don’t really know. He seemed to have half an idea, and he pushed. Please can you eat breakfast, if it’s cold, I can get something else.”

Kate was anxious, a little more than Jane expected. There was something off about her that Jane had never quite put her finger on, but she didn’t seem to be playing any of Loki’s games. Probably just scared.

“I’ll eat, it isn’t a problem. What did he say to you in the hall?” Jane poured herself a large black coffee, more than usually grateful for it. Kate was hesitating, not sure how to respond. “Please? I want to work out what is up with him. It is… safer, to understand his moods, if that’s even possible.”

“Oh, not, nothing about why, just that if you didn’t eat or if I ever didn’t tell him immediately that he’d beat me with his belt.” The last few words tumbled out. “I’ve never had anyone say anything like that, not even close to it. And he means it. You can tell he means it.”

Jane rested her head in her hands, chewing though another slice of toast, not really wanting it. “Yes, probably. Or maybe he just wants to scare you, so I behave. You don’t need to be afraid. I’m eating. I hadn’t meant not to eat. I won’t give him a reason to hurt you.”

She would much rather he had threatened her. It was a weight. She wouldn’t allow herself to be responsible for him hurting someone else, but she couldn’t keep him from doing what he liked with her. Maybe she could help? Keep him in a better mood so he was less sadistic with others. She didn’t know that that would work, or if she could bear it.

She needed to be so much more careful, with what she said, how she acted, even when he wasn’t around. She would be careful with him, and try, to the best of her ability, to keep him in his better moods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of the positive feedback!! I am slowing down the pace of upload a bit to make sure I can keep writing and planning well ahead (I like to revise and edit before I upload) so many thanks for being patient with me.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki takes a rather different approach, but will life get any easier for Jane?

Visiting Captain America was becoming a welcome source of stability. Their conversation wasn’t always easy – Jane didn’t have a lot in common with a man from the forties who definitely didn’t understand why it was implausible for a portal to be the size of Manhattan – but he was comfortable somehow.

It also helped to have something to do. Jane was deliberate and purposeful in her work, cleaning every cut and marvelling at the extent of his healing. His fever had broken, and the colour had returned to his cheeks.

They chattered amiably, both wanting the companionship of speech more than the actual conversation. He often held her hand in his for a while after she had finished her work, pressing his thumb against her palm in a gesture of silent comfort.

Jane squeezed his hand, stepping away, not sure she would be able to push back tears for too much longer. She was determined not to let it show.

Kate was quite the opposite, and Jane was starting to find herself irritable in her company. This was made all the worse by her increased presence. Loki had determined that all her meals would be overseen by her maid, and Jane would simply have to endure it. She may find the woman increasingly grating, but she was hardly going to land her Loki’s promised beating. Kate seemed quite determined to engage Jane in conversation about the rumours of resistance to Loki from a country in Africa she hadn’t heard of and whether Jane had any hope that Loki could be beaten. She bit back sharp comments. How on Earth was she know, locked up in a tower and as good as leashed to his bed.

Jane had barely managed ten minutes of peace to collect her thoughts when there was a rough knock at the door. Great. She was summoned again. Another session sitting on his knee while he held court tormenting Captain Rogers. She straightened her face, preparing herself to face him and to not let it show.

“I’m coming, I won’t be a moment.”

The door opened anyway. Damn them.

It was Barton, not her normal guard. He was a little different. The one that Loki called Spider was different too. They seemed to have more character about them.

“Boss wanted me to bring you these.” He hefted a cardboard crate onto a coffee table. Jane stepped forwards, cautiously, not sure what trick of Loki’s this might be. “Just books ma’am. These are what we found up here in the Penthouse.”

Jane picked up a dog eared and rather outdated engineering journal, a coffee ring on the front cover. There was a stack of them, none of them recent, but still very much better than staring out of the window at rubble.

“Thanks,” Jane was hesitant, still waiting for the catch. “Did he say why?”

“No ma’am, just that we were to find some books for you.”

“Thank you, I’d like to read.” She smiled at Barton out of polite habit. He simply gazed back out of endless blue without pupils before leaving with a curt nod.

Jane thumbed through the journals. They were very technical and while they were definitely better than the company of her own thoughts, they were a heavy read. They must have been Stark’s. It made her a little uncomfortable to be going through his things. Still, she dug about in the box.

Underneath the journals was a full set of the folio bound classics. The sort of books only ever bought by interior designers and not intended to be read. She never really had a chance to read novels, or rather, any time she had spare she spent hunched over her lab equipment. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do.

With no real knowledge of literature or idea about what would be good, she picked _Tess of the D’Urbervilles_ and settled in the armchair closest to the windows.

Jane found herself quite lost in the book. Perhaps it was just her desire for something to take her mind away, she had never enjoyed novels much in the past. A few chapters in though and she thought the Norns of Norse myth were playing a rather cruel trick on her, but she did not stop reading.

“My dear thing, I was quite wrong. Your true beauty is not found under starlight, but when your mind is entirely alive and engaged.”

Jane dropped the heavy book on her knee and swore as the hard cover caught her toe. He smiled indulgently at her, sweeping to pick it up, straightening the leaves.

He looked very much more relaxed than usual. Perhaps it was simply the lack of armour. Instead he wore a fine white linen shirt, laces open at the throat, sleeves pushed to his elbows. He seemed to be in a good mood. Jane remembered her earlier resolution to see if she could keep him in one, if not for her sake, then for others.

“Thank you for the books. I…” she swallowed “I appreciate having something to do with my day.”

Unless her mind was playing tricks on her, Loki looked sympathetic. “I don’t doubt it is frightfully boring.” His tone lightened, his lilting tone and charming smile returning, as dangerously disarming as ever. “I don’t know how fine ladies ever manage to get through a single day without descending to the very depths of madness, and those poor young noble maidens confined to rooms once their beauty bloomed lest they stray before being properly married off? While so many on Asgard would tell you that I was a witch boy and barely a man, I was glad to be spared that fate.”

He placed the book down on a side table, offering Jane his hand. “Come, join me for dinner. Tell me of your book. I promise I shan’t be so very cruel to you this evening.”

Jane was wary of him, despite his good humour, but accepted his hand. It felt like walking towards her own execution.

He led her to the breakfast table, clearing it of the engineering journals with a gesture, a blue-eyed man appearing moments later with plates of food and another with glasses and a bottle of wine. Loki allowed them to set the table without acknowledging their presence in the slightest.

“You know my disdain for most things Midgardian, but in the past, I had taken an interest in some of your writings. Something of your fragile, ephemeral lives gives your work something I could not hope to experience. The last occasion I spent any great time here I found an affection for Donne, though I suppose Midgard has moved on and he is forgotten. I too have lost more than one afternoon to a book.”

Jane was more aware than usual of quite how sharp he was. It was the real danger in him. He may be a brutal bastard when in a mood to be, he was strong and had who knows what magical ability, but the way his words came so effortlessly, signalled the true source of his power.

The blue eyes left, and Loki gestured for her to sit. “You have settled on a single novel all afternoon, or did you try this and that before finding one that suited?”

Loki poured a glass of red wine for each of them and picked up his cutlery in long fingers that managed far more elegance than Jane ever could.

She supposed she had better answer, and well. If he wanted to talk about books, well, she objected far less to that than any of his usual demands. “Just the one book. I never really read, so I picked one at random.”

“And you enjoy it?”

“I think so. The plot… I nearly put it down. It felt too familiar.”

He looked curiously at her, considering for a moment before responding. “Ah, in that fine tradition of novels, there is the young heroine, pure and beautiful, the man wicked and set on seducing her, but if she accepts then she is conquered and lost.”

“That was a damn close guess.” His lip twitched towards a smile.

“It is far my preferred game. Had I the patience with you it would have been that way, but I fear I am a capricious creature and lately I indulge my whims almost as often as they strike me.”

Jane chewed her food in silent thought, not noticing what she was eating.

“And in your book, does your heroine surrender to her pursuer?”

She took her time swallowing before responding. “No. But…” Jane struggled to word what she wanted to say.

“But the man takes what he wants despite her objections.” Loki added, watching her closely.

“Yes.”

“I see now why you are taken with the tale. It will go one of two ways. It does in such books. Through her grace and innocence, the man shall be seduced in turn, changing his ways, and offering marriage. That is common in the lighter novels. Else she will have trouble after trouble,” he paused, “and be free only on her death.”

“Those aren’t good options.”

“It is only a novel my dear. You should not project too much or draw parallels where none are truly there.” He sipped his wine, quiet for a long moment. “I would like to hear how the tale ends, perhaps it will surprise me.”

Jae nodded, unsure of how to respond. He seemed in a light enough mood, talkative and no threats of violence so far – a pleasant change – but she still had to be careful. He seemed content with the silence for the moment though, so she focused on her food.

“Your study, it is of the stars?”

“Yes, and, what you call Bifrost. I was studying it in Puente Antiguo without realising what it truly was, and when I understood… I had to know, had to understand everything.”

Loki wore a gentle, open expression as he replied. “Tell me then, about your work? I can walk between the stars, perhaps in all my years I have found some of the answers you seek.”

If she hadn’t known what he was and been on her guard, that smile would have been dangerous. Still, Jane talked, rambling as she spoke, but Loki seemed patient. He cocked his head to listen, pressing her for explanations where he didn’t understand a term, and occasionally commenting, hinting at his vast depth of knowledge on the subject without revealing much.

He did understand, that much was clear. When Jane spoke about quantum fields and folds in space time he clearly followed without difficulty. He understood how Bifrost actually worked she was sure, and could explain it if he chose. Oh what Jane wouldn’t do to have that knowledge. But no, she shouldn’t think like that. If he would tell her, the price would be too high.

When she had eventually talked herself out he filled up both of their glasses, allowing a moment of quiet, before fixing her with his ageless eyes.

“Would you like to see the stars as they are over Asgard? The view here is charming, but it cannot compare.”

“Yes, yes please!” Jane jumped at the offer before considering it. She kicked herself for being so silly.

He stood, offering her his hand again. “Bring your wine? Come and lay beside me, and I shall enchant the ceiling.”

And there it was, the catch. Well, she was expecting that or something similar. Of course his charms and manners had been another one of his games. She closed her eyes before accepting his hand. But what choice did she have but to take it.

He plumped the pillows so they could sit up in bed, stretching out with his wine in one hand, guiding Jane to his side with the other. It settled on her hip.

The room darkened, not just the lights but the dusk outside fading away, and then a picture so beautiful Jane couldn’t help but gasp aloud. It wasn’t a projection like a planetarium, it was as if she were under the dome of alien heavens. And what heavens they were. Bright nebula spilled and swirled amongst the velvet dark, pierced by the finest silver.

He was watching her, drinking in her rapture. He made no move, and simply sipped his wine, allowing her to gaze up in wonder.

“It is a memory, but I think I have it accurate.”

“It is… I can’t describe it. I could spend a lifetime looking at this. I don’t recognise anything! I want to map it out every day and see how it moves. Is it far from Earth? Can you see our Sun? Can you show me where?”

“Yggdrasil is not so simple as that. The distance is not so very great but the movement of the branches obscures. Hmmm” His tone was warm, a honeyed full sound that was somehow quite different from the growling purr used to twist thoughts into her head. “You see the supernova, to the left of the cluster of stars with two large and slightly blue?”

“I see it, yes.”

“Sometimes, when the branches are aligned, you may see Midgard there.”

“What do you mean about the branches? I don’t understand why that would happen. What affect is it, how does it work?”

He shifted slightly, putting down his empty glass and turning towards her. “Another time perhaps.” He was looking at her more intensely now, and Jane understood. She passed him her glass to put down on the table and shifted too, a little awkwardly.

“You need not look so frightened.” He tilted her chin with a crooked finger to look at her better. “I would have you tonight, but I won’t hurt you.”

Jane nodded. There was nothing to be achieved fighting him.

“I would take you as I take a lover, if you would have me that way.”

She looked at him with wary curiosity, not quite understanding.

“I don’t want you to endure me, I want you to lay with me as if you wanted to. A game between us, just for tonight.”

“Why would I…?”

He was closer now, his flawless porcelain stark against the sable night of his enchantment.

“Because I offer you something to quieten a racing mind and distract from what troubles. I am asking you to surrender and offering you freedom in it. Be mine and lose yourself to the pleasures of my bed.”

She could do that. The honey dripped from every word and she knew what he was doing. But still, it was appealing. She didn’t want him, didn’t want to touch him, and certainly not sleep with him, but that wasn’t something she could refuse. Was it worse if she participated? She would hate herself for the weakness in the morning, but now, already pressed against his side, it felt like it would make little difference.

She smiled up at him, doing her best not look as if she was afraid of him, and nodded.

He pressed a kiss to her lips, gentle at first and then heated, his tongue claiming her as his own. She hesitated before responding, but not for very long. She moved, letting him deepen the kiss, accepting his advance. When they broke apart his eyes were blown, the emerald irises just barely rings in deep pools of reflected starlight.

He scooped her up, bringing them both down into the bed and moved to cover her body with his own, dipping down to string filthy open-mouthed kisses across her throat. Jane scraped a hand through his hair, pressing his mouth to her pulse, concentrating on the sensation of it. He smiled against her neck.

“My beautiful little doe. I promise you ecstasy.”

Jane didn’t know what she was doing and knew she would hate herself for having done it, but what did it matter now. She shifted under him, hooking one leg over his, allowing him to press their hips together. He grasped her thigh, moving against her sinuously. She felt him hardening against her and drew him closer, running her hands along the tight muscles of his side, feeling their movement through the fine material.

His mouth was on her again, one hand cupping a breast, another guiding the movement of her hips. “Don’t think, my darling, just move with me. Lose yourself in it.”

And to her undying shame, she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for persevering with me guys! Life is getting busier as lockdown hear ends, but I'm going to keep posting and will finish this story.
> 
> Many thanks for all of the comments and kudos. It is so so encouraging and I am glad that this grim little story has its fans. :D


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane regrets her actions of the previous evening, and Loki does not appreciate her change of attitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W for violence from our usual suspec

Jane woke late, the weak sun already risen over a battered New York. Loki was long gone, if he had slept at all. She got up immediately, not wanting to lay around in his bed, especially not after last night.

She took a long shower, water too hot, scrubbing too hard. She tried to press the memories of what she had done out of her mind, but with little success. She should have fought him again. She was weak, pathetic, a traitor. Every other time it had been something he had done too her, a disgusting violation perpetrated by a monster. But she had given in to him. And worse. It had been so easy to distract herself with it, to push all thoughts from her head and drown herself in what they did. She was disgusted with herself.

Why on Earth had she done it? She hadn’t been taken in by his changes in behaviour, she knew it was some new game or other, though she didn’t understand it. He had made it easy for her to accept, to surrender, and she had. Loki was an ageless liar and a manipulator, she shouldn’t be surprised that he could turn things as he liked, but she had known full well what she was doing and yet she chose all the same.

She knew why, but she was loath to admit it to herself. Surrendering to him like she had, had been… an escape. She was so on edge all the time, terrified of what he might do, she was tense, frightened, always having to be on her guard, to be ready to fight him or endure his advances, but last night, giving in to him, had been the first peace she had had.

She understood why people lost themselves in a bottle. The desire for oblivion.

**

Kate was very definitely grating, and Jane chided herself for being irritable with a scared woman just trying to make sense of the horrors her life had become. She should be sympathetic, a companion figure, but Jane’s usual good humour and tolerance were gone. She felt worn down and defeated.

She was pushing her eggs around her plate for a while before remembering that Loki had threatened to take a belt to the poor woman if she didn’t eat. They were cold, and it was unpleasant to finish them, but she did it.

“You seem so quiet. Did he hurt you? Worse than before that is?”

“No.” And then feeling that she shouldn’t be sharp, knowing that it was far from her nature, she added: “no he didn’t hurt me at all. He was sweet, in his own way.”

“Then why?”

Much to her distress, it all came tumbling out. “I knew what he was doing, knew he was just playing a game with me, and I went along with it. I should fight him. I know he’s a monster, killed God knows how many, he tortures, he rapes.”

Jane swallowed, trying to get her voice at least under control, knowing she was being hysterical.

“It’s not your fault. He forces you. Anything you did, is because he made you.” Kate was sounding convincingly reassuring enough, but it did nothing to help, nor did the gentle touch to her elbow.

“Don’t. It isn’t. He didn’t force me last night. I slept with him.”

Kate faltered. Jane was sure the other woman was disgusted by her, thought her nothing but a traitorous whore who gave herself to a tyrant for a night of mindless lust to keep her thoughts at bay.

“It doesn’t change anything Jane. You’d resist if you could. It doesn’t count… look, can you honestly tell me if you hadn’t that he wouldn’t have forced you?”

“No, he’d have forced me if I had said no.”

“See! It was… you aren’t to blame. It doesn’t count as consent if he’s coercing you like that. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Jane didn’t believe it and didn’t think Kate did either. She hadn’t done it because she was afraid he’d rape her anyway, and she knew it. But if Kate thought less of her now… she could hardly say it. That she had wanted the hollow pleasure he offered, to feel something other than fear and pain.

**

She did not visit Captain America that morning, nor did she make much progress with her book. She felt heavy, defeated, in a way she hadn’t before. Visiting the Captain was something she enjoyed, but it was on his orders that she went, betrayer and traitor that she was. The books were his gift. They felt tainted.

**

“Why do you sulk so, my doe?”

He could always creep up on her. How did he do that. She was sure she hadn’t heard the door.

“What do you want, Loki.”

He made a warm, purring hum of a sound, deep in his throat. It did not sound entirely human, but then that suited him. “Oh, so many things.” He reached out with a long-fingered hand, cupping her jaw so she had to look up at him. “So many things, and so many from you. How sweetly you cried out for me last night. That I would hear again.”

She turned away from him. “I…” she paused, not quite knowing what to say, “I won’t be doing that again.”

“And why is that, my pretty whore?” His voice had hardened, a threatening burr in every word.

Jane didn’t reply, staring determinedly out of the window. She flinched as he brushed her hair away from her back and over one shoulder but didn’t respond to him. He closed his hand around the back of her neck.

“Ungrateful slut.” He spat, and turned her about, fast, pushing her into the room. Jane stumbled, catching her foot in her dress, but he caught her up, hauling he against his chest, before slamming her into the table hard enough that her head span.

It took a moment for her to register the world again, she felt queasy. She was bent forwards over the breakfast table with him pressed against her from behind. She struggled up, trying to stand, to get away, but he pressed her back down, twisting her arms behind her back and holding them with one hand. He pressed them up towards her shoulders, the contortion causing Jane to cry out in pain before he relaxed the pressure.

“Am I to understand that you chose to fight me again, that your surrender lasted only so long, long enough for you to come over and over, on my hand, my mouth, and again and again as I fucked you. Last night you found ecstasy with me inside you and begged me for more, but in the cold light of the morning I am nothing but a monster to be feared and fought, not an attentive lover.”

“No, I…” He twisted her arms up again.

“Silence whore. I’ll have you like this then. It makes little difference to me if my way is eased with arousal or blood.” He kicked her legs apart, pressing between them. Jane bit the inside of her lip as she felt him against her, holding back tears.

“Every day that I don’t thrash you with the buckle of a belt, every day I don’t have you stripped and humiliated in front of others, every day that I don’t fuck you bloody and screaming, is a day you should be grateful for my mercy.” She had never heard him like this. God, she was terrified. “Every liberty of yours is a privilege I can remove. I’d cut out your tongue if I didn’t have a use for it. Now, whore, shall I fuck you like this and make the pain of our first night a pleasant memory, or will you fall to your knees and beg forgiveness.”

He released her slightly, enough that she could scramble up. If she had any doubt about what she was going to do, it left her as she caught the barely contained rage in his horrible ancient eyes. She dropped to her knees.

“I didn’t mean to be ungrateful, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset, to offend… I didn’t want…” She didn’t know what to say. She could hardly thank him for not regularly brutalising her. The words caught in her throat.

“Keep your words whore, put your mouth to better use.”

She could do that. It was much better than anything else he could want in this mood. She slid a hand up a thigh clad in soft leather, hoping it would sooth him a little, and pressed a kiss. Slowing her breathing, she found the laces and worked them open with trembling fingers.

He was half hard already. At least her hands were free this time. She steadied herself against his thigh before starting to lick. He allowed it for a few minutes, running his hand through her hair, before speaking again.

“Tilt your head back and open your throat. I haven’t the time for you to simply lap.” She hated that. He was too big even if he was gentle about it, and she had no hope for that now. Still, she obeyed, glad not to be bent back over the table. He placed a hand on the surface either side of her head, leaning forwards and caging her in.

He hadn’t been as rough as she expected. At least he hadn’t come on her face this time and had contended himself to holding deep in her throat and for so long that she was amazed she hadn’t choked. Her eyes were wet from restraining the urge to gag and swallowing continually.

“Lick me clean, whore, and you can get up.” She obeyed, running her tongue along him, barely even minding the bitter taste. He moved and let her up.

“Go and visit your captain. Take comfort in him, but don’t fuck him yet.”

Jane nodded, picking her gaze up from the carpet and heading towards the bathroom.

“No, as you are. Your valiant knight will see a poor maid, used so ill by the heartless monster. You should encourage his touch, but flinch away, blaming some violence of mine if it threatens your virtue,” he deliberately twisted the last word with a sneer, “but visit again tomorrow and accept a little more. If he thinks you are throwing yourself at him he will reject you, you will miss the date set for you to complete your task, and you shall be the cause as I have him put in stocks and used by everyone in the tower.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry for leaving it so long to post! Things completely got away from me this year (like everyone else). But I have this story finished in my head, and I want to keep going. I am determined to finish it.
> 
> It meant so much to me to have positive comments, even when I wasn't posting, and it gave me the kick I needed to come back. Thanks so much guys, and I hope you enjoy the story.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane finds comfort in Captain America, but Loki's manipulations sour everything.

“Christ, Jane, what happened to you?” Captain America was sitting up in bed, his legs freshly bandaged but otherwise looking much better than when Jane had left him. He pushed himself as if to stand but fell back. He had told Jane that the tendons were recut each morning as they started to heal. The poor man must be in almost constant pain.

Jane stepped quickly to the bed, sitting down beside him so he wouldn’t try to stand again. His hand went immediately, but very gently to her forehead, a clear look of concern.

“How bad is it? I haven’t seen.” She knew she must look a wreck, her overdone eye makeup must be down her cheeks let alone the bumps.

“Not pretty.” He smiled apologetically, but his jaw was set. “Did he hit you?”

“No, not hit. Slammed my head throwing me across a table.”

He was much more concerned at this, clearly piecing together some of what she wasn’t saying. “How badly are you hurt?”

“Not like that. The bump is the worst. He was just scaring me mostly.” A strong and reassuringly warm arm wrapped close around her shoulder. Jane allowed it, resting her head against his broad chest, feeling the steady rhythm of heart and lungs.

“I wish I could protect you from him, you and everyone else. But you seem to get the worst of it. I’ve never wanted to kill anyone in my life, even when I was fighting damn Nazis. It was a war, and I fought, but not because I wanted to put a bullet in any one man or another. Him I’d kill in a heartbeat, if I could, and I’d be glad I did it.”

Jane had no response to that. Instead, she simply rested, calming herself, allowing Captain America to twist their fingers together and to stroke a sheltering hand across her shoulders.

“Have you made any progress stabbing the brute in his sleep?”

Jane laughed, his tone was comforting and light. It helped to joke about it.

“He doesn’t sleep much. Maybe one day in three. I guess he would see it as just another mortal weakness.”

“Does he have any of those? He must do, right? Have weaknesses? I keep thinking through that fight, over and over, how it could have gone differently, what I should have done.”

Jane thought for a long moment, running through all their interactions in her head. “He’s unstable. His moods are all over the place and they turn quickly. But most of the time that just makes him more dangerous.” She paused, thinking. “He talks too much, he likes to grandstand, I think. And he’s arrogant. We are all just weak little mortals and he’s a god. He might underestimate us.”

“I landed hits on him. A few good ones too. He barely noticed. I don’t know it is all arrogance, he really is damn strong, and I’m not exactly weak or little anymore.”

“Thor could fight him. But he hasn’t come. I don’t know why he hasn’t come.” And for the first time it overwhelmed her, and Jane couldn’t restrain herself from openly crying in front of someone else. She hid her face against his chest, ashamed, but not able to stop. He said nothing, and simply held her.

After a few wet sobs Jane managed to pull herself together, sitting up and drying her eyes on the fine silk of her skirt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s ok, you don’t have to apologise.” He reached up to brush her hair out of her face where it had stuck to her tears.

Jane jerked back, horribly reminded of Loki. And worse after, reminded of his instructions to her as he had sent her here, to reject the captain’s advances and blame some violence of his. There was no need to pretend. God what had he made of her.

“Sorry, I’m sorry I shouldn’t assume. I know how he hurts you, I…” Jane said nothing, she had nothing to say to comfort him, everything she did would be twisted by Loki’s orders. So she pressed a kiss to his lips, quieting his rambling apologies as much with shock than anything else.

It was brief, and chaste. A simple press of lips, warm lips, full and soft, that moved against her without demands.

She didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t know why she was doing it. Sure, Captain America, The Captain America, was as close to a pinnacle of all-American good looks as it got, but that wasn’t why. It wasn’t lust. It wasn’t even what she had had with Loki the previous night. That had been a foul perversion of lust, using him as much as he used her, feeling ever more hollow even as she had clawed at his shoulders and twisted her hands through his hair. This was simply comfort.

And yet Loki’s poison had it rotting before it was begun. She was betraying him by doing this. She was as much Loki’s puppet as the blue-eyes. She pulled away, unable to bear it, knowing that she would just be using him, or manipulating him in some game of Loki’s.

“I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. I didn’t… I don’t know what came over me.”

He smiled, a wholesome beauty in his flawless face. “I don’t mind. We’re all we’ve got.”

He wrapped his arms around her, bringing her back to rest on his chest.

  
  


**

It was late, and they were all running on fumes, but Nick Fury had no intention of heading to bed. ‘You sleep when you’re dead’ they say – and that could be any moment these days.

Coulson placed a package on the desk in front of him. Rather than standing, as he usually would, he sagged into a chair opposite Fury’s, beyond exhausted.

“What is it?”

“Our best hope of hurting the bastard.”

Fury ran his fingers over the package, opening it slowly, carefully. It was a blade, about four inches long and with a finely worked gold handle. The metal seemed rather too perfect, a silver gleam without flaw.

“What am I looking at here?”

“Dug up out of the ruins near Tønsberg, where the tesseract was found. Nobody knew what it was when it was found, it has been in storage for decades.”

Fury picked up the blade, admiring the edge. He raised his thumb to test it.

“Don’t, sir, be careful,” Coulson cautioned anxiously. “We managed to sober Stark up enough to run some tests. It is sharper than anything that can be made on Earth.”

“It is from Asgard?”

“We think so sir.”

“It can hurt him?”

“We can’t be sure.”

No, naturally. It wasn’t as if they had a spare god they cold stab to test. Still, this was progress. Good progress.

“Is Dr Foster in a position to help us?”

“From the reports out from our agent, Dr Foster is… slipping. We still believe that she would like nothing better than to stick a knife in Loki, but we can’t be sure. We confirmed our suspicions: repeated sexual assaults, often violent. We can’t be certain that she will have the strength left to act against him, let alone succeed.”

Fury turned the knife in his hand, considering every possibility, walking them through in his head. He didn’t rate their chances. A traumatised civilian was almost guaranteed to fumble it. Still, what choice did they have.

“Get it to your agent on the inside. Have her keep hold of it and pass it on to Dr Foster only when she is sure. We can’t exactly make another and if Loki finds his prisoner with an Asgardian blade, he will clean house and we’re sure to lose your agent.”

Coulson nodded, rewrapping the blade.

“Anything else to report from your agent in the tower?”

Coulson consulted his notes, ordering his thoughts before responding. “She says there is something different about some of the blue-eyes. Some are nothing but puppets without any autonomy but others seem to have more of their old characters. She notes that Agents Barton and Romanov are more responsive than others.”

Well that was interesting. “Carry on?”

“She writes that she believes Romanov looked at her and recognised her, but can’t be sure. It’s probably nothing but a false hope and a green agent seeing things she wants to believe. I don’t know that we can bank on it.”

“If anyone’s breaking his hold, it is Romanov. But yeah, yeah, you are right, probably. Not something I can waste what little resource I have on. Get the knife to your agent at the next drop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do appreciate all of the lovely comments last week after I started posting again. I'm determined to work this story through to a satisfying ending, and not keep you hanging for another year!


	16. Chapter 16

“Christ, Jane, what happened to you?” Captain America was sitting up in bed, his legs freshly bandaged but otherwise looking much better than when Jane had left him. He pushed himself as if to stand but fell back. He had told Jane that the tendons were recut each morning as they started to heal. The poor man must be in almost constant pain.

Jane stepped quickly to the bed, sitting down beside him so he wouldn’t try to stand again. His hand went immediately, but very gently to her forehead, a clear look of concern.

“How bad is it? I haven’t seen.” She knew she must look a wreck, her overdone eye makeup must be down her cheeks let alone the bumps.

“Not pretty.” He smiled apologetically, but his jaw was set. “Did he hit you?”

“No, not hit. Slammed my head throwing me across a table.”

He was much more concerned at this, clearly piecing together some of what she wasn’t saying. “How badly are you hurt?”

“Not like that. The bump is the worst. He was just scaring me mostly.” A strong and reassuringly warm arm wrapped close around her shoulder. Jane allowed it, resting her head against his broad chest, feeling the steady rhythm of heart and lungs.

“I wish I could protect you from him, you and everyone else. But you seem to get the worst of it. I’ve never wanted to kill anyone in my life, even when I was fighting damn Nazis. It was a war, and I fought, but not because I wanted to put a bullet in any one man or another. Him I’d kill in a heartbeat, if I could, and I’d be glad I did it.”

Jane had no response to that. Instead, she simply rested, calming herself, allowing Captain America to twist their fingers together and to stroke a sheltering hand across her shoulders.

“Have you made any progress stabbing the brute in his sleep?”

Jane laughed, his tone was comforting and light. It helped to joke about it.

“He doesn’t sleep much. Maybe one day in three. I guess he would see it as just another mortal weakness.”

“Does he have any of those? He must do, right? Have weaknesses? I keep thinking through that fight, over and over, how it could have gone differently, what I should have done.”

Jane thought for a long moment, running through all their interactions in her head. “He’s unstable. His moods are all over the place and they turn quickly. But most of the time that just makes him more dangerous.” She paused, thinking. “He talks too much, he likes to grandstand, I think. And he’s arrogant. We are all just weak little mortals and he’s a god. He might underestimate us.”

“I landed hits on him. A few good ones too. He barely noticed. I don’t know it is all arrogance, he really is damn strong, and I’m not exactly weak or little anymore.”

“Thor could fight him. But he hasn’t come. I don’t know why he hasn’t come.” And for the first time it overwhelmed her, and Jane couldn’t restrain herself from openly crying in front of someone else. She hid her face against his chest, ashamed, but not able to stop. He said nothing, and simply held her.

After a few wet sobs Jane managed to pull herself together, sitting up and drying her eyes on the fine silk of her skirt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s ok, you don’t have to apologise.” He reached up to brush her hair out of her face where it had stuck to her tears.

Jane jerked back, horribly reminded of Loki. And worse after, reminded of his instructions to her as he had sent her here, to reject the captain’s advances and blame some violence of his. There was no need to pretend. God what had he made of her.

“Sorry, I’m sorry I shouldn’t assume. I know how he hurts you, I…” Jane said nothing, she had nothing to say to comfort him, everything she did would be twisted by Loki’s orders. So she pressed a kiss to his lips, quieting his rambling apologies as much with shock than anything else.

It was brief, and chaste. A simple press of lips, warm lips, full and soft, that moved against her without demands.

She didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t know why she was doing it. Sure, Captain America, The Captain America, was as close to a pinnacle of all-American good looks as it got, but that wasn’t why. It wasn’t lust. It wasn’t even what she had had with Loki the previous night. That had been a foul perversion of lust, using him as much as he used her, feeling ever more hollow even as she had clawed at his shoulders and twisted her hands through his hair. This was simply comfort.

And yet Loki’s poison had it rotting before it was begun. She was betraying him by doing this. She was as much Loki’s puppet as the blue-eyes. She pulled away, unable to bear it, knowing that she would just be using him, or manipulating him in some game of Loki’s.

“I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. I didn’t… I don’t know what came over me.”

He smiled, a wholesome beauty in his flawless face. “I don’t mind. We’re all we’ve got.”

He wrapped his arms around her, bringing her back to rest on his chest.

  
  


**

It was late, and they were all running on fumes, but Nick Fury had no intention of heading to bed. ‘You sleep when you’re dead’ they say – and that could be any moment these days.

Coulson placed a package on the desk in front of him. Rather than standing, as he usually would, he sagged into a chair opposite Fury’s, beyond exhausted.

“What is it?”

“Our best hope of hurting the bastard.”

Fury ran his fingers over the package, opening it slowly, carefully. It was a blade, about four inches long and with a finely worked gold handle. The metal seemed rather too perfect, a silver gleam without flaw.

“What am I looking at here?”

“Dug up out of the ruins near Tønsberg, where the tesseract was found. Nobody knew what it was when it was found, it has been in storage for decades.”

Fury picked up the blade, admiring the edge. He raised his thumb to test it.

“Don’t, sir, be careful,” Coulson cautioned anxiously. “We managed to sober Stark up enough to run some tests. It is sharper than anything that can be made on Earth.”

“It is from Asgard?”

“We think so sir.”

“It can hurt him?”

“We can’t be sure.”

No, naturally. It wasn’t as if they had a spare god they cold stab to test. Still, this was progress. Good progress.

“Is Dr Foster in a position to help us?”

“From the reports out from our agent, Dr Foster is… slipping. We still believe that she would like nothing better than to stick a knife in Loki, but we can’t be sure. We confirmed our suspicions: repeated sexual assaults, often violent. We can’t be certain that she will have the strength left to act against him, let alone succeed.”

Fury turned the knife in his hand, considering every possibility, walking them through in his head. He didn’t rate their chances. A traumatised civilian was almost guaranteed to fumble it. Still, what choice did they have.

“Get it to your agent on the inside. Have her keep hold of it and pass it on to Dr Foster only when she is sure. We can’t exactly make another and if Loki finds his prisoner with an Asgardian blade, he will clean house and we’re sure to lose your agent.”

Coulson nodded, rewrapping the blade.

“Anything else to report from your agent in the tower?”

Coulson consulted his notes, ordering his thoughts before responding. “She says there is something different about some of the blue-eyes. Some are nothing but puppets without any autonomy but others seem to have more of their old characters. She notes that Agents Barton and Romanov are more responsive than others.”

Well that was interesting. “Carry on?”

“She writes that she believes Romanov looked at her and recognised her, but can’t be sure. It’s probably nothing but a false hope and a green agent seeing things she wants to believe. I don’t know that we can bank on it.”

“If anyone’s breaking his hold, it is Romanov. But yeah, yeah, you are right, probably. Not something I can waste what little resource I have on. Get the knife to your agent at the next drop.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki finds Jane with Steve and his reaction is not what she had expected - is there more to his odd behaviour?

Jane spent the next two days between her books and Captain America’s makeshift cell. There was no sign of Loki. She neither knew nor cared what kept the bastard away but was thoroughly grateful for it. Still, with every hour he didn’t return, she felt his absence more ominous.

The books were a blessing, despite their tainted origin. She finished Tess of the d’Urbervilles, quietly satisfied that Loki had not guessed the ending. She tried not to draw parallels between the fate of the heroine and her own, but couldn’t honestly say she would mind such an outcome. Such a sacrifice was nothing if it would remove Loki from the world and end his tyranny. She went next to Wuthering Heights, not knowing what to expect, finding herself fascinated by the violent savagery of the characters.

Sometimes she would read alone in the room at the top of the tower, but that was still Loki’s room, and too much there reminded her of him. She had taken to spending more and more time with Steve, bringing her books and sitting in comfortable silence. They talked too, and there was an increasingly tactile side to their interactions. It was more than once that she had rested against his chest, an arm curled around her shoulders. She didn’t kiss him again though. She couldn’t bear to follow through with Loki’s orders, though she knew she must. Nor could she stand the idea of taking advantage of him as a distraction. That would make her hardly better than Loki. Thankfully, Steve didn’t press the matter.

They lay in quiet comfort, Steve’s arm close around her, the other hand resting against her elbow. He was almost asleep, but Jane was not. Sleep did not come easily to her, her dreams were far from pleasant, but she valued the waking rest all the same.

“So this is where you had disappeared to, my dear, inconstant whore.”

Jane sat up quickly, distancing herself from Steve with an instinctive guilt and despising herself for feeling it.

“I had returned from a long battle, seeking my bed and my bed warmer, only to find my pet slut had wandered off. What am I to think, finding you entwined with another man?”

Jane didn’t know what to say. It was him that ordered her to be here. What exactly was he playing at? Still, he didn’t seem in a joking mood. He wore pair of fine braids twisting his long hair away from his face, bound in gold. The effect should have been comical, but with his current expression, it only served to emphasise the sharp lines of his almost human features. He leant against the far wall with a cultivated casual air, his legs crossed at his ankles, studying a nail on one hand.

“It’s ok Jane, you don’t have to.” She had been so focussed on Loki that she had barely registered Captain America sitting up, but she noticed now. He was pushing himself to his feet, wincing but determined.

“Don’t be silly, boy. The pleasures of a welcoming woman may be many, but hardy worth the beating I’ll give you if you interfere.” Turning his gaze on her, he added “come, whore, and quickly before my temper fails me.”

Captain America stepped in front of Jane, squaring his shoulders, and no doubt working furiously to ignore what must be agony in his partly healed legs. This was a bad idea. Heavens only knew what Loki would do, but this was dangerous. She stood, touching Steve’s elbow reassuringly. “It’s ok. There’s no point fighting. I’ll be back to see you soon.”

Loki snorted. A thoroughly unhelpful noise.

Steve was not persuaded, his jaw set and his eyes steely. He squeezed Jane’s hand briefly, and then stepped towards Loki.

“I could never stand men who use their strength to abuse women. I never let it slide, even when I was a weakling, and I certainly won’t now.” Loki’s scornful expression didn’t quite hide the determined hardness Jane recognised and knew to fear.

“Loki,” Jane spoke to him directly, her voice low and calm. Perhaps she could defuse this. He barely acknowledged her. “Loki, please, I’ll come, we’ll do whatever you want, please don’t.”

“The boy must be taught a lesson. Stay and be silent.”

Jane pulled her knees up to her chest on the cot bed and pressed herself against the wall. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate what Steve was doing, but it was hopeless. He could get them both killed.

Loki’s hand twitched oddly to the top of his thigh, brushing his fingers along a strap that twisted around his leg and briefly under a layer of leather armour. He seemed to decide against whatever it is he was reaching for though, moving his hand away, and shifting his weight.

Steve was broader and more heavily built, but he was unsteady on his feet. Jane did not expect this to go well. Loki may be lean, but he was far from weak. He was a prince from a warrior culture, god knows how old, and had certainly seen more fights in his long life than any mortal could imagine.

Loki was wearing his best nasty grin, all perfect teeth and a wicked flash in his eyes. He didn’t need to do this. He could use any of his magic to end this if he chose, but instead he seemed content to brawl like a thug. Jane was sure she didn’t understand why, and equally sure that she didn’t want to know.

The first blow came faster than she could see, Loki jabbing swifter than any human could move, knocking Steve off balance before he even had his guard up, sweeping out his injured legs with a heavy boot to the side of the knee. Steve collided with the wall with a thud, barely able to pick himself up before Loki moved again.

“You were no match for me at your best, mortal. Concede. Kneel before me as your god and I shall be merciful.”

Steve wiped his bloody mouth on the back of his hand, steadying himself against the wall. “You are the furthest thing there is from God.”

Jane did not watch the rest; she couldn’t bear to. She heard it though. She heard it as Steve first hit the floor, as a heavy boot connected with ribs, as he steadied his breathing to try to stand. She heard the bones crack as Loki stamped down.

“Get up again and I’ll have every bone broken. I have better ways to spend my time than beating you, boy.” Steve’s breathing was laboured, but he did not respond. Jane looked up from her skirts, knowing that Loki would be taking her up to his room any moment now, trying her best to accept her fate calmly and to not further sour his mood.

Steve was laid out on the floor clutching his arm, his face and bare chest a mess of red. Loki was simply watching her. He smiled lightly as she met his gaze.

“Come along girl.” His tone was sharp and brooked no argument. Jane stood, straightening her skirt, stepping around the prone figure on the floor. She caught Steve’s eye for the briefest of moments, but couldn’t stand to hold his gaze. He looked utterly broken. Loki placed a hand gently in the small of her back, shooting a last smirk at Steve before guiding her to the door.

She waited until they were in the lift before she spoke.

“Why? I was there because you ordered it. Why did you?”

“Because he should not know that I ordered it or there is no purpose in the game.” Loki looked rather more drained than she had noticed before. “The boy should not think that I tolerate another touching what is mine.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He turned to face her, fixing her in his unnatural emerald gaze, his expression twisted in disdain. “I do not act out of necessity, girl, I am a god. I express my will and the universe obliges me. I act as I chose and for my own reasons.” Jane swallowed a response as the lift door opened, knowing better than to argue with him. There was something off about his behaviour. She would have to be more than usually careful.

He swept ahead, past the unresponsive stares of the blue-eyes, and Jane followed, trotting a little to keep up as he strode into the room.

As the door closed, he sagged, very visibly. Something passed over him in a barely perceptible shimmer, leaving a very different looking man.

His hair was tangled, hanging about his face in thick ropes, his braids barely discernible amongst it. His visible skin was thick with grime, dirt, and blood. The green leather of his armour was stained maroon. He stank too. Blood, smoke, sour sweat, and filth.

“Shit, you were hiding this the whole time?” In her surprise Jane had voiced her rambling thoughts and kicked herself for it, but he smiled, rather more softly than usual.

“I am a creature of vanity and pride. Draw me a bath. I shall be along.”

Jane hurried to the bathroom, glad to be away from him if only for a moment. He had obviously been in a far tougher fight before coming to fetch her and was clearly dead on his feet. Even so, he had hidden it with magic and insisted on fighting Captain America with his bare hands. She didn’t understand. None of his actions made sense. He was a wreck. She started to fill the bath, checking the water temperature, busying herself with the task as a distraction.

For the first time since she had been in the tower, she heard Loki’s footsteps as he approached. He had stripped off some of his outer armour: the vambraces on his forearms and spaulders at his shoulders and the heavy leather gaiters that covered his boots were gone. He was pulling irritably at another set of leather straps. Jane was curious despite her caution. She had never known how all of that armour went together and he usually just magicked it on and off at will

Breathing steadily, Jane kept herself calm, and softened her face. His tempers could be manageable, she was getting better at understanding his moods. If she kept him sweet, he was less likely to harm others.

“Do you need help with that?”

He just barely met her gaze before replying. “If you like. Yes, yes, help me off with it.” His tone was weary rather than sharp, so Jane approached, cautiously. “You have my word that I will not bite.”

Jane steadied her nerves and started unbuckling and unlacing. It was complicated, a mess of overlapping layers, but she managed to get him down to his fine undershirt. Her mind, though, was entirely drawn to what he had strapped to the top of each thigh. Under the armoured coat he wore long daggers sheathed at his belt on either side of his hips. The handles were angled forwards, presumably so he could easily reach them.

The daggers glinted, even though the blades were sheathed. They were enticingly beautiful: the high gloss of the dark wooden handle; the plaited gold design of the pommels and cross guards; the embossed leather of the scabbards. It seemed to Jane as if they called out to her, the twisting animals in the gold enchanting her, aching to be in her hand.

Pulling her attention away and focused on the laces at his throat while she thought. He couldn’t know what was going on in her head. It wouldn’t take much though. She could simply take one knife out and jam it into his stomach. That probably wouldn’t kill him, but it would hurt, enough that she would have a chance to land another blow. Aim a little low and she could end some of his ability to abuse her.

Loki stirred, closing his hands gently over hers, lifting them up to his lips and kissing gently. “You are a good creature. Sometimes I wonder if I should be kinder to you.” His eyes flickered open, holding her in his odd gaze. His eyes were still bright, despite his obvious exhaustion.

“There is an blood vessel in the thigh, just here.” He spoke softly, guiding her palm to press just above the femoral artery. Jane was otherwise quite frozen in fear. “If you do what you are planning, strike here, and cut deep. You never know, the Norns may smile upon you and I may bleed out.” Her breath was catching in her throat. Loki spoke entirely calmly, his tone low and gentle. She didn’t know what to do.

“My knives are sharp, and I am weary, you will not have a better chance than now, my pretty little doe.”

Jane thought for a moment about the ending of her book. Even that poor woman had managed to stab her tormenter to death, and even after all she had been through. But she couldn’t do it. She knew she should, but the fear had her, its grip far tighter than Loki’s,

He kissed her gently, pressing his soft, unnaturally cool lips to her cheek without real affection.

“Good girl.” He stroked her hair, long fingers trailing through the loose locks. “You are such a clever thing, a wise thing. Perhaps it is a shame that Thor will not come and will not save you. You don’t deserve such a monster as me.”

“You know where Thor is?” This had caught her by such surprise that she had spoken before thinking, looking up at him. She bit her tongue. Loki’s hardening expression was more than enough to remind her to be cautious.

“I should have known that would be all you would care about.” He released her hands, pushing her away without any real force. “I am not an invalid. I can manage from here, woman. Pour in some of the oil from the red bottle.” Jane caught his eye, nodding slightly, and hurrying to his little collection of bathing supplies.

Turning round she nearly dropped the bottle. He had removed his shirt and was just kicking off his boots, but that wasn’t why she was looking. His entire left side was a mess, blotched marks from red to deep purple, stark against his ivory skin.

“Pretty isn’t it.” His expression was slightly warmer as he stepped out of his trousers and moved towards the bath, gesturing for her to follow. “It turns out not all mortals are completely without defences. There was a great kingdom, hidden away from the world, strong in warriors.” He stepped into the bath, wincing as the water reached his badly bruised side.

“What happened?” Jane’s curiosity running ever ahead of her fear.

“The same thing that always happens.” He closed his eyes, pressing his head back against the back of the tub. “I killed their king. I killed the king’s son. Gamora killed the king’s daughter. Their line is ended, their warriors are dead, their city burns.” He spoke flatly, as if describing a trip to the dentist. “The son fought well. I gave him a good death. May the Valkyrie bear him swiftly to Valhalla.”

He was in the strangest of moods, turning to fix her with his ageless eyes. “I forewent my tricks and fought him as he deserved. The sentiment cost me a few broken ribs, but I do not resent it. I shall be entirely recovered by morning. It is my fate, after all, to endure. Even Death will not have me. So I shall content myself to send others to such peace.”

Jane had no response to this. She wasn’t entirely sure what it meant and for once her caution held her curiosity in check.

He ducked his head under the water, running his hands through hair matted with blood and grime. Emerging, he seemed to have pulled himself out of his sullen temper. “Leave me be. Go and get into bed. I will be along, but I won’t touch you tonight.”

**

In an anonymous office converted into a spartan bedroom, Agent Romanov finally managed close her hand under her own direction. She was far from free, but she felt his grip on her slip more and more each day. When he was tired, when he was distracted tormenting that poor civilian girl, she could almost break the control. It was getting easier now.

Natasha hurried, knowing she didn’t have much time before she was his creature again, determined to make the most of every fragile moment of freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keeping up the writing, as promised :) Thank you again for all of your kind and supportive comments.


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